


Something like Home

by red_streaks



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Child Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, Flashbacks, Panic Attacks, Physical Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-04-09 03:27:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 48,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4332096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_streaks/pseuds/red_streaks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“No, I’m serious. I have a buddy down in New York. You could stay with her until you’ve got a job and a place to live in. She’s not really the roommate type, cause of her kid and all, but she’d help.”</p><p>Regina’s eyes find Killian’s in an instant, and she remembers six stitches, a blackening bruise she’s having trouble concealing, her childhood fear of Mother’s heels against the linoleum making it’s way to her room, before she nods twice and says,</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>Regina runs away looking for home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_“Hello, my name is Regina Mills. I’m a friend of Killian, which is how I received this e-mail address. I hope it’s not too straightforward of me to contact you through here, but Killian assured me that you knew of my predicament and that you’d be expecting my message soon.”_

 

Regina frowns down at her computer, the cursor blinking back mockingly at her. Huffing, she hits the back button with derision. 

 

_*_

 

_“It’s a nationally accredited college, Mother, how is that not good enough?!”  
_

_“You will stay here, build a better resume volunteering and working at my firm until you’re accepted somewhere worthier. Why are you so insisted on leaving, dear?”_

 

_“Because! Because I- I-“_

 

_“A lady doesn’t stutter, Regina. Or shout.”_

 

_“Because you’re here!”_

 

_The sound of a palm hitting soft flesh resonated throughout the study, and all the way down to Regina’s feet, which urged her to run._

 

_She didn’t._

 

_*_

 

_“Hello, my name is Regina Mills, 19 years old and from Storybrooke, Maine. Killian said you’d be expecting contact from me soon, and I apologize for the secrecy of writing through here. I don’t wish to be found.”_

 

Regina’s fingers fly over her keyboard, mindful of the limited time she has before Mother arrives from work.

 

*

 

_“Daddy, I have to leave. I can’t do it anymore, I just can’t.”_

 

_“Querida, just a few months more and you’ll be gone, I promise.”_

 

_“And if no school is worthy enough for her? What happens when December comes and no acceptance letter arrives?”_

 

_Sometimes her father’s silence hurt more than the sound of her mother’s hand whizzing through the air._

 

_*_

 

_“I need a place to stay for a night, two at the most. I don’t have much money on me, but I promise to repay a soon as I can. I will be out your hair at the slightest inconvenience from me, I just need a bed to sleep in for a night. Whatever the cost is, I will pay in time.”_

 

She drums her fingers underneath the keyboard, biting her lip and contemplating adding anything else.

 

Regina hears Mother’s car pulling in to the drive way.

 

_*_

 

_“You declined my acceptance?”_

 

_“It was only a matter of time, darling. You won’t be attending.”_

 

_“That was my decision! Mine alone!”_

 

_“Did you think you could run off to the school without my permission? You will do as I say. And I say you are staying where you belong.”_

 

_“I don’t belong here. I belong in a place where people aren’t under your thumb, some-“_

 

_“Don’t be silly, child. You belong next to me.”_

 

_“No.”_

 

_“No?”_

 

_Regina sees red and black and blue before waking up in her room, her head heavy._

 

_*_

 

_“If you are to agree, I will be at your address within two days of your reply. Thank you for taking the time to help._

 

_Regina Mills.”_

 

She finishes the e-mail and hits send with a shaking finger, just as the front door opens.

 

“Regina?”

 

She slams the laptop closed.

 

_*_

 

_“You could run away.”_

 

_She rolls her eyes so hard, the back of her eyes tug painfully._

 

_“No, I’m serious. I have a buddy down in New York. You could stay with her until you’ve got a job and a place to live in. She’s not really the roommate type, cause of her kid and all, but she’d help.”_

 

_Regina’s eyes find Killian’s in an instant, and she remembers six stitches, a blackening bruise she’s having trouble concealing, her childhood fear of Mother’s heels against the linoleum making it’s way to her room, before she nods twice and says,_

 

_“Yes.”_

 

_*_

 

The reply is instantaneous, comes in just after a stilted dinner with her parents. It reads simple enough.

 

_125 86th St. #2. Bring warm clothes._

 

_-Emma Swan_

 

She leans back against her headboard and lets out an excruciatingly long breath, until her lungs are shriveled and pained, until the edges of her vision blacken. Only then does she breathe in once, and begins packing.

 

_*_

 

In the end, it doesn’t take much for her to leave. She leaves her phone underneath her mattress and only takes one bag, her laptop, purse and the clothes on her back.

 

Killian drives her to the bus station, gives her spare change she reluctantly agrees to take, and with a peck to her cheek and a promise to call, Regina leaves Storybrooke in the middle of the night.

 

At first, she feels light, the only thing bothering her is the throb of her stitches, visible only if her hair is pushed back. She sits by the back, staring as the endless trees turn to houses, then buildings and rivers and more buildings, and she feels herself floating higher and higher, the ache between her lungs loosening.

 

She comes crashing down when she realizes she doesn’t have much money left after the bus, and taxi and eating, but she refuses to go back and admit defeat, and so when the sun is barely rising, she stops for coffee. Her heart settles when her feet finally rest, and when the floating feeling comes back in full force, she finishes her coffee and sets out to find Emma Swan.

 

The building can barely be called that; it screams of loose floorboards and moldy walls, but she lifts her chin and presses the button next to _Swan_ , before wiping her glove against her thigh.

 

The gate is opened and she simply steps forward and climbs the stairs. The elevator is under repair, and Regina suspects it’s not safe to ride even if it were in service. 

 

Emma’s door is a pale blue with few cracks in the coat. Her spine stiffens like it does when Mother places a hand on her cheek, and she raises her fist to knock, making sure it’s loud and precise.

 

A baby’s cry is heard inside.

 

She curses herself for not minding the early hour, and the child living inside; she’s about to turn around and try again later when the door is opened with force, and suddenly Regina’s not thinking of Mother or chipped paint.

 

A young blonde with a look of irritation and exhaustion is standing with an arm outstretched, holding the door and blocking the entrance. She supposes this is Emma. She’s standing in tight jeans, something Regina was never allowed to wear, a see through tank top, with a flowered bra visible underneath. The whole outfit is finished off with a ratty pair of Chucks. There’s a mess of blonde curls adorning her face, a nose full of freckles and an ear lined with piercings. 

 

Mother would’ve had a heart attack, and it is this thought alone that makes Regina smile, despite the hour, the cold, and the crying babe.

 

Emma raises an eyebrow and looks her up and down, her mouth never moving from that downturned grimace. Her eyes settle on the bag at her side and she moves inside without a word.

 

The inside is better than the outside, but not by much. The walls are bare and the floor does creak. The only furniture in the room is a two-seater faded pink couch, and a small T.V. on top of a plastic cabinet. There’s a large amount of books in one corner and a couple of boxes in another, with a thick blanket splayed out in the middle of the room. 

 

Emma’s disappeared somewhere and Regina takes this as permission to follow, tuning to the left into what looks like the kitchen, where a baby bassinet is set on top of the counter. Emma’s cooing and picking up a small boy, no older than a couple of months old in an adorable Winnie the Pooh onesie. She watches as Emma nestles him against her shoulder and rubs his back all the while closing her eyes briefly. There’s a look of content and fear on her face, and Regina looks away just as she’s opening her eyes.

 

“This is Henry. He’s eight months old. Could you get the bottle?” There’s a ping behind Regina, and startled by it, she turns around to see a bottle ready inside the microwave. She turns and Emma’s gone again. With a huff of annoyance, Regina moves back to what she thinks is the living room. Emma’s placing Henry on her knee and she takes the bottle from Regina gracefully before placing it between Henry’s parted lips. 

 

Regina takes a moment to really look at the boy, and she realizes she quite likes what she sees. He’s got chubby little cheeks with a stubby nose that looks a little like his mom’s. His hair is a dark brown, although there’s wisps of lighter hair around his forehead. He’s adorable and Regina forgets Storybrooke just a little more as she looks at him. 

 

“So, Regina. I won’t ask you why you left, but I’d like to know if anybody’s going to follow.” Emma’s looking at her with suspicion when she finally tears her eyes from the little boy, and it takes a moment for her to process what she’s saying.

“No. She won’t know where to look.” 

 

Emma raises her eyebrows at the pronoun she uses, and Regina’s spine stiffens at her slip-up. The blonde just nods, hair falling over her shoulder as she looks down at Henry, who’s happily sucking away at his bottle.

 

“You can put your bags down in my room. There’s only one bed, sorry.” Emma doesn’t sound sorry at all, and she even winks a little which throws Regina in for a loop. It’s the only gesture that wasn’t meant to be cold, or distant, and Regina instantly fell for it.

 

She's left to explore the apartment, only having to take a quick peek at the little restroom, and the simple room. It had one bed as promised, with a baby clothes strewn around and a couple of toys, diaper boxes and a baby stroller pinned against the closet door. She dropped her bags in one corner and left for the living room, more than a little interested in the two people in there.

 

“You got that checked out?” Emma surprised her as soon as she walked into the living room, her chin jutted out to point at Regina’s face. She raises her hand to cover it, the motion familiar and often used, before lowering it. There was no use in hiding it from someone who isn't going to know where it came from. 

 

“Yes,” she says because Mother always made sure the marks would heal eventually, without repercussions. 

 

Emma squints at her a little, and it’s a little disconcerting, the look of suspicion from someone so young, especially as she’s holding her child so lovingly.

 

Emma finally just hums, and says, “Yeah, I’ve been there, too.”

 

That’s the end of that conversation, it seems, because Emma’s eyes leave her face and she asks if she’s looking for a job.

 

“Yes, something quick. I need to make money soon.” 

 

Emma snorts and tickles Henry’s belly, making him squirm in delight. “You’re not going to make much money soon.”

 

Regina is immediately irritated by that. “Well, I _know_ that. I’d just like to start immediately.” 

 

Emma hums again and it’s really starting to grate on Regina, this cocky blonde with the perfect child.

 

“I could get you a shift at Granny’s.” 

 

All of Regina’s irritation slips from her in one swift sentence, and she struggles to say yes, or thank you, or please. She simply nods and Emma smiles for the first time. 

 

Regina feels the need to remember that she did that, made her smile.

 

“It’s not much, definitely not enough to get you a place on your own. I work three jobs and I still don’t have enough for formulas sometimes.” Emma shrugs like it’s no big deal, and stands up, taking Henry’s empty bottle and dropping it on the couch. She rests him against her shoulder and taps his repeatedly on his little back until a little burp comes out of his adorable mouth.

 

Regina finds herself smiling a little, and meets Emma’s eyes.

 

“Three jobs?” she has to ask because Mother isn’t here to remind her to be polite.

 

“Yeah. I bus tables at Granny’s during the night shift, then I’m at the Rabbit Hole ’til morning. Just got back, sorry if I stink of alcohol.” Emma places Henry on the blanket and watches as he starts playing with a stuffed lion.

 

“And the third?”

 

“Hm? Oh, sometimes I do a little bail bond. Killian got me that job, actually. I’m not very good at it yet, but it pays good.”

 

“So you have the day to yourself? I mean, with Henry.”

 

Emma smiles at that again, and Regina kinda forgets to looks anywhere else for a while until Emma speaks again.

 

“Mhm. I’m taking an online class right now, though. And I sleep, if this one lets me.”

 

Three jobs, a child and a part time student. Emma Swan shouldn’t be able to do all that. Regina go back to thinking about working, and she realizes that she’s going to have to look for something more than waitressing if she wants to have her own apartment and start school soon.

 

Emma must be on the same thread because she stops toying with Henry with her foot and looks at her imploringly.

 

“You could stay here, help with rent. Get your feet on the ground,” Emma shrugs again, as if she’s not offering a home. “Just don’t, you know, bring any guys without letting me know. There’s _childre_ n here.” Emma smiles a little more widely, and it’s strange how at ease she feels in here, discussing babies and men.

 

“Girls. And girls?” Regina realizes what she’s saying halfway through, and finishes off lamely.

 

Emma’s smile widens almost imperceptibly, and she says, “Sure, and girls.”

 

Regina flushes and clears her throat, looking anywhere but at Emma. Her eyes land on Henry, who’s looking up at her with big brown eyes, so different than his mother’s green eyes, but just as sharp.

 

“Come on, let’s meet Granny. Maybe she'll book you tonight.”

 

Regina startles out of her staring match with Henry, and squeaks, “Tonight?!”

 

“Well, you said immediately, didn’t you?” Emma’s moving towards her room, (their room??) and smirks over her shoulder.

 

Regina’s left alone with a gurgling child; she looks around for a second before squatting down. Henry claps and Regina chuckles, poking him on his belly until they’re both giggling.

 

She could do this, she thought. She really could.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your kind reviews!!  
> Let me know what you think of the chapter, and thanks for reading!

“Granny” turns out to be a sweet looking elder woman with long skirts and half framed glasses; Regina deems her the physical embodiment of a grandmother at first glance.

 

Except she was anything but. 

 

A grandmother, sure, Regina learns as Ruby introduces herself but sweet was so beyond an adjective she’d use to describe the older woman. She snaps at her three times for not washing a plate correctly, while Emma and Ruby snicker in the back, Henry perched on Ruby’s barely clad hip, and Regina learns to glare while scrubbing furiously. 

 

She’s been accused of hurting Granny’s baby as she starts the oven wrong twice, and of wearing too many layers of clothes (but that’s Ruby’s ridiculous opinion). Emma seems to be enjoying watching her as she maneuvers her way through tables, her trial run starting as soon as Emma introduced her to Granny as her new roommate. 

 

She’s doing a terrible job, she knows it, but she smiles at the customers and takes Granny’s comments in stride, and even winks at Henry as he shoves his entire fist in his mouth. She still has yesterday’s clothes on, a deep red sweater with black pants and some now poorly chosen boots, but she picks up trays and tries to settle plates down without dropping it on her customers. 

 

When she’s finished with her fifth table, per Granny’s instructions, she goes to the back where Emma is still giggling with Ruby and Henry. Granny’s looking at her over her glasses, and with one last glance down at Regina’s outfit, she sighs and nods her head.

 

“You start tonight. Emma will be training you.” Granny leaves quickly after that, and Emma groans loudly. 

 

Regina high fives Henry’s wet hand, a feeling of accomplishment spreading across her chest.

 

*

 

The three walk back to the apartment, a couple of blocks away from the diner, and Regina can’t help but hum a little as she walks beside Henry’s stroller. It’s odd, walking back to a place she hasn’t begun to call hers yet, but the nearer they get to the building, the more she looks forward to being inside it again. She could help with rent, and maybe get a new couch soon, or-

 

“Shit. _Shit_.” Emma pushes the stroller a little more quickly, and Regina has to jog a little to catch up.

 

“What?” There’s an urgency in Emma’s steps, and she’s clutching her flip phone while chewing her lip. She looks over at Regina, throws her the phone, and says, “Just hurry up.”

 

Regina’s half running down the street now, with Henry making delighted noises as they turn a corner. She looks down at the worn phone and flips it open, a text message from Killian already on display.

 

_Hide her._

 

Her heart drops to her feet, and she suddenly feels very hot in her sweater. She doesn’t know any details, whether Mother knows where she’s at, or if she’s even on her way, but Killian’s short message holds enough fear that Regina doesn’t question it.

 

“I can’t go back to your apartment, Henry will be there and-“ Emma huffs and snatches her phone back, dials quickly and balances the phone in between her shoulder and ear.

 

“August, my place in five.” She pulls a face at whatever August replies and she curses at him for a second before saying, “thank you, dork,” and promptly hangs up.

 

They’re almost at the apartment, Regina guesses because they’re passing some familiar stores, and she can feel the panic seize at her chest with every step she takes.

 

“I can’t, Emma, I need to leave somewhere else, like a a place she wouldn’t visit. Emma, I can’t-“ Regina’s breathing is getting labored, all she can think of is nails digging into her forearm and brown eyes so similar to hers filled with rage.

 

Emma’s looking at her from the corner of her eye, and she’s thinning her lips out. She blows her cheeks out before shaking her head

 

“You’ll be fine. I’ve got a plan,” she says reassuringly, maneuvering quickly through the street.

 

“And what’s that, hiding me behind your TV?” Regina runs a hand through her hair, her fingers getting tangled at the end of her loose curls. She tugs impatiently, now walking behind Emma.

 

Emma snorts loudly, Henry trying to imitate the sound before she throws a quick, ”Just hurry _up,_ ” over her shoulder.

 

Nobody’s in front of the building when they arrive, and Regina lets her shoulders relax almost immediately. There’s still something clutching at her insides, but she had imagined her Mother standing in front of the door, blocking all of Regina’s progress. The thought makes her shudder as they go up the stairs, Emma handing her the stroller roughly as she settles Henry in her arms. 

 

There’s a man standing in front of the blue door, all scruff and brown leather, and Regina eyes him warily. He tries waving and smiling at her, but her nerves are shot and she doesn’t trust anybody here as far as she can throw them.

 

Except Henry, because she’s certain she can throw him the furthest out of everybody. She shakes her head at the disturbing thoughts her panicked mind is coming up with, and waits beside Emma as tries opening the apartment while talking to who she assumes is August.

 

She’s not exactly paying attention, her mind drifting to the large empty house she left behind as she sits on the couch. She was foolish in thinking her Mother wouldn’t find her, how could she have ever thought she was better than Cora? 

 

Mother was right, she thinks bitterly, she should have never tried leaving, or standing up to her. Now, her actions would surely cause her more pain, because she was certain Mother was already halfway to finding her, and once she did she would-

A heavy weight settles on her lap suddenly, snapping Regina out of her rapidly growing morbid thoughts, and she looks to down to see a familiar face gurgling up at her. Henry has his fist in his mouth again, and she uses one finger to tickle his side. He sways happily and something inside Regina’s scattered mind settles, like the click of the door as Mother finally exited the house in the evenings, leaving Regina free. She drops her forehead against his little head for a moment, taking deep breaths. She’s considerably calm as she finally looks up, searching for Emma.

 

The blonde’s moved back to the kitchen, the large opening on the wall separating the two rooms, which served an island of sorts, allowing her to find her quickly. She has her arms crossed tightly in front of her, and she’s nodding to what August is saying, but her eyes are on Regina, a slight frown on her face. Once she notices Regina looking at her, her frown smoothes out, and she nods one more time at Regina before looking back at August.

 

A sudden rush of gratitude warms Regina at the sight of Emma looking out for her, and she lets herself be pulled under the comforting weight of Henry and Emma’s watchful sight.

 

She stays on the couch while the other two discuss some sort of planning; Regina promises herself she will get up and become involved soon. This is for her, she should be saving herself, although it’s starting to feel nice, she supposes, to have somebody look out for her.

 

Daddy never did much to keep Mother’s hands and mind from her, the little he did only making her see how unjust it all was. 

 

Henry’s still looking up at her with wide eyes, seemingly interested in her so she runs a hesitant hand through his unruly mop of hair. She lays a hand on his back, mindful of him falling over her knees and into the apartment floor, and she finds a little hoodie. It’s yellow, like the rest of his Winnie-The-Pooh onesie, but it has little ears at the ends. She pulls it on him and quickly giggles at how adorable he looks. Henry jumps a little where he’s sitting, his upper body wriggling as he sees Regina laughing. 

 

He quickly grows tired of the hoodie though, so Regina finds other ways to entertain him, and gradually, so slowly that Regina doesn’t notice it, her heart is light and her laugh is real and loud. 

 

She stands and takes Henry with her, his little fists around her hair and sweater. She’s trying to place her hands where she last saw Emma’s, and making sure she isn’t going to drop him, she makes her way to the kitchen.

 

Emma’s leaning against the counter and August is looking around the cabinets, a mildly annoyed look on his face.

 

“So, I called Killian. He says your mom found out this morning and kinda want bat-shit crazy. His words not mine,” Emma says once she notices Regina enter. “I think she went through your e-mail, because he says she left before work without any bags or anything, and that your dad thinks she might've booked a plane.” She shrugs and Regina begins making calculations, knowing full well that if Mother left before work, that she’d be here in the next couple of hours. Especially if she flew. 

 

“Should I leave?” She’s trying not to fall over with fear, which just makes her spine stiffen and hold on to Henry a little tighter. Emma looks at her for a moment, her eyes staying a bit too long on her bruise and the way she’s clutching at Henry’s back, before she shakes her head.

 

“I’ll take care of it. We’ll make it seem like there’s nobody here named Swan, just a loving father,” Emma points to August, who’s ripping drawers open now, “and mother. We’re changing my name on the label down stairs to Booth for now.”

 

Regina nods, still unsure that Mother won’t find a way to find drag her back home. Emma must sense her fear, much to her embarrassment, because she tries smiling reassuringly. It comes off more like a twisted grimace, and Regina can’t help but laugh through her nose. Her grip on Henry loosens, and she watches as the tension in Emma’s shoulders unravels.

 

“You should shower, relax a little.” She’s tilting her head to the side, and Regina’s sure she just saw this look on Henry’s little face moments before, so she just nods and nods, and hands him over to Emma.

 

*

 

The water’s cold against her skin, but she doesn’t bother turning around to change the temperature. She feels her teeth clattering and her chest expanding. 

 

She thinks she must hear her rib cage crackling as it freezes over and breaks open, letting all her warmth out. It turns out that she’s crying brokenly in Emma’s little bath tub, her forehead pressed painfully against the wall, and her nails raking over and over her thigh. 

 

*

 

She’s changing into a loose green shirt and jeans when she hears someone knocking on the front door.

 

She knows it’s Mother.

 

Emma comes clambering through the hallway, her shoes making more noise than Regina’s boots, when she throws the door open. Regina’s clad in her pants, but she’s topless except her bra. Emma notices too late, looking up at the ceiling while covering Henry’s eyes.

 

“I’m going to let her through, okay? Stay in here. Hide in the closet if you want.” Then she’s gone in a flurry of blonde hair and a giggling child.

 

She changes quickly and shoves her bags in Emma’s tiny closet, leaving the closet door open in case she decides to hide. She wants to face her Mother head-on, but she’s afraid of her safety, and of the other three in the apartment. 

 

The door is opened, and everything is muffled for a second before Regina moves closer to the door.

 

“Miss Swan?” Her Mother’s sickly sweet voice carries through the door, and Regina shrinks into her skin.

“No, I think you have the wrong apartment.” Emma’s strong voice is heard next, and Regina’s relieved that she sounds strong and just a little threatening. 

 

“I don’t think so. Don’t play games with me, Miss Swan, and return my daughter.” Her voice is no longer sweet, but menacing and dark. 

 

Her stitches begin to itch, and she resists the temptation to reach up.

 

“I don’t know who you are, lady, or who your daughter is. This is the _Booth_ residence, now get the hell out.”

 

“She’s here and we both know it. If you don’t want any trouble with the law, you will _return_ my daughter.”

 

Regina’s eyes go wide, and she scratches the raw skin beside the stitches. She’s growing cold in her wet hair and bare feet, but she remains where she is.

 

“I really don’t think I’m the one who should be afraid of the cops, lady. Maybe your daughter doesn’t want to be found for a good reason, a reason that might get _you_ in trouble.”

 

There’s a long pause where Regina can feel her heart beat in her ears, and she begins seeing black before she remembers to breathe. 

 

“I’m aware that you are Emma Swa-.”

 

“Lucy? What’s going on?” August comes in with Henry, if his babbling is any indication, and Mother stops talking. 

 

“Just some wacko lady who’s at the wrong apartment.” Emma sounds bored, and Regina scratches her stitches again as she waits for her mother’s reply.

 

“My apologies.” Mother’s curt reply comes, and it’s as if it pains her to speak any further. Everything stands still for a second before the door closes and Emma sighs in relief. 

 

Regina goes out tentatively, still in her wet hair falling down her back, and her bare feet. Emma notices and turns to her wearily.

 

“Your mother, she’s uh. She’s a real piece of work.” She smiles lopsidedly, and Regina sags against the hallway wall.

 

She nods and nods, and rests her forehead against the cool walls, and it isn’t until she looks back up to Emma and August, still looking at her from their place in front of the door, that she notices the badge clipped to August’s belt.

 

Her vision blackens, and she feels her chest tight, like she forgot to breathe again.

 

She probably did, she thinks, as she’s pulled under. The last thing she sees is a mess of blonde curls and a particular flowered piercing high on a pale ear.

 


	3. Chapter 3

“Maybe you could… put one of your socks under her nose.”

 

“August, why the fuck do you always insist I smell bad?”

 

…

 

“You shouldn’t cuss in front of Henry.”

 

A low thud and August falls blessedly silent.

 

*

 

“I read somewhere that you should tilt a person’s head to the side so they don’t choke on their tongue.”

 

“Don’t you dare touch her, August.”

 

Something cold and damp makes it’s way down Regina’s cheek, until it settles around her neck, the sensation almost waking her up completely.

 

“What if she tries swallowing her tongue?!”

 

She decides to let the darkness pull her under.

 

*

 

“She could get a restraining order. She’s got enough to make a case, you know?”

 

“I think she might just want to forget it all,” Emma almost whispers, and Regina can feel light fingers on her neck as Emma takes the now warm cloth off. It's quickly replaced with a colder one, and Regina feels the last dregs of exhaustion leaving her.

 

She tries sitting up, realizing she's in Emma’s tiny room, with Emma perched beside her and August sitting on the floor against the wall. 

 

“Woah, woah. You can’t get up yet.” Emma gently pushes on her shoulders, and Regina’s dizzying head silently agrees. “You’ve been out for like, a coupe of hours. Just rest up until your shift, okay?”

 

Regina’ groans, having forgotten about that tonight and only nods. Emma’s eyeing her a bit warily, like she might topple over at any second. She meets her gaze straight on, and Emma realizes she’s been staring for too long.

 

“So, uh- you want some water?” She’s already standing up and moving to the door before Regina can croak out a simple yes. She hasn’t slept all through the night, and she’s can feel her stomach still coiling in anxiety. In short, she’s exhausted, both physically and mentally, and all she wants to do is curl up under the familiar scent of her comforter.

 

August is the one looking at her cautiously now, and Regina raises an eyebrow. He doesn’t seem deterred, though, so she just settles against the pillows. 

 

His staring is staring to grate her after a second, so she huffs out a breath, and asks the first question that pops into her mind. “You’re a cop?”

 

He grins up at her, and she has the feeling she’s talking to a small child, what with his cropped hair and wide grin. “Detective.”  


“You don’t look the age.” She hums out, maybe because she’s tired and scared, or because she doesn’t exactly know his relationship to Emma.

 

“I’m just a couple years older than you, actually. Like, six maybe.”

 

Emma still hasn’t come back with that cup of water, she probably got caught up with Henry. Casting one quick glance at the door, she finally asks what’s been on her mind.

 

“Apart from a detective, how do you know Emma?” She’s hoping that Emma only knows him because of his line of duty, but even her sudden flare of protectiveness startles Regina. Didn’t she just meet Emma?

 

“Oh, we met in the foster system.” Emma chooses that time to step through the door, and Regina’s cheeks burn at her lack of tact.

 

“August!” Emma hisses and glares at him, a cup balanced in one hand while Henry comes bouncing in a rolling chair contraption that looks like it’s made out of mop handles and plastic.

 

“I’m sorry,” Regina tries saying sincerely, and Emma turns her focus from a cowering August to Regina, who must look terrible because Emma’s glare softens a little. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

 

Emma snorts and hands her the water. “Yes, you did. Just ask me directly next time.” Her voice is a little icy, but she removes the cloth on her forehead with gentle fingers, and Regina relaxes after a brief nod.

 

“ _Anyways_ ,” Emma shoots August one last glare, “how are you feeling?”

 

“Good?” Regina runs a hand through her still damp hair, and winces as she runs a finger through her stitches. She watches as August stands up and sits on one end of the bed while Emma sits on the opposite end, both watching her carefully, as if what they might say next will make her faint again.

 

“What?” she says a little too sharply, and Emma winces. She looks down at Henry for a moment before nodding at August.

 

“We want to know if you’ll be pressing charges.” August’s badge is clearly visible from where he’s sitting, and Regina panics.

 

“No!” she nearly shouts, making the two occupants on the bed startle. She feels like a child again, when Mother and Daddy would sit by her bed and lecture her on something she did just before they say goodnight. 

 

Emma chews her lip before looking over at August. “Look, this is what we can do. You can give August your statement, and he can keep in a file.” Regina shakes her head fiercely, clutching the comforter around her. Emma’s gaze softens a tad. “Just as a precaution in case anything else happens, so when- _if_ you want to press charges, ever, it’s on file and like there’s a stronger case, you know? If you don’t press charges, then the incident goes untouched and everybody’s happy.” 

 

Regina stops shaking her head and starts running her index finger nail over the pad of her thumb. It starts out lightly, but the more Regina thinks about seeing her mother again, the harder she presses down on her nails. Emma seems to notice, but doesn’t comment, just keeps staring at her patiently.

 

She shakes her head one last time, “Not yet.”

 

Emma and August both look a little relieved, and Regina files that away for further examination, when her head isn’t heavy and drowsy, and when her body feels a little less like she flew out of a plane.

 

“We’ll leave you to rest then, okay? I’ll wake you up to eat before we leave.” Emma pats the bed right beside where her legs are under the covers, and the two of them exit the room. Regina realizes that Henry must have wheeled himself out of the room when she was too busy staring panicked at Emma. 

 

The door is closed lightly behind Emma, and Regina is alone once more.

 

*

 

The smell of something burning wakes Regina from a fitful sleep. Her eyes are raw from all the rubbing she’s been doing, and her head still feels like she’s better off just cutting it off, but she sits up and pulls on her boots anyways. 

 

She washes her face and braids her hair back before she tries to muster the energy to put on some make-up before going into the kitchen, where some muffled arguing could be heard. She ends up just applying foundation and eyeliner, the easiest of the many tasks she does, and heads out to find the source of the bitter smell.

 

She rounds the corner to find Emma with a hand on her popped out hip, pointing a wooden spoon to a guilty looking August, who’s leaning against the counters. What catches Regina’s attention, though, is what Emma is wearing, the outfit reminiscent of what Ruby was wearing that morning. It’s a tight looking t-shirt with a scoop neck, and a red skirt that ends about mid thigh. Emma looks so much like a retro waitress, her hair even pulled into a pony-tail and for a second, Regina’s mouth goes dry at the sight of her. She’s wearing those blasted Chucks again, and with her pants gone, Regina can see a small bruise forming beside Emma’s legs.

 

Emma finally notices her and puts down the threatening spoon.

 

“August burnt the sauce,” is all she offers, and turns back to the stove. Regina notices her the piercings lining up her ear, again. They’re small and golden, some are even small hoops, but she can make out the small flower she had noticed earlier. 

 

August shrugs and turns his palms up, in a ‘what can you do’ type of gesture. Regina can’t help but feel a smile tug at her lips. She notices Henry isn’t around, but she can hear wheels turning on the wooden floor, so she supposes he’s busy having fun. 

 

“Do I need a uniform, too?” Regina’s frankly too scared to leave the apartment just yet, and is looking for any excuse to stay in at least for the night.

 

“Granny will give you one tomorrow, probably.” Emma turns to look at her from where she’s stirring something. “You like spaghetti?”

 

Regina nods and sits on the chairs lining up against the island. 

 

“Good,” Emma chirps, and adds, “Check my phone. There’s a message for you.” She sounds too innocent for Regina’s liking but she takes the phone from Emma and flips it open.

 

_She’s back! Pray for me!_

 

The time stamp reads 4 p.m., and Regina lets out a breath she’s been holding for a very long time.

 

“He’s actually okay. Called me a couple of hours ago to tell me that he’s on his way back to Boston after some sort of show down with your mom.” Emma’s still turned to the stove, but she can see how her shoulders have relaxed significantly since Mother left the apartment.

 

“Good,” she says, because although she knew Killian could leave whenever he wanted to, switching from city to city every other week, she was still worried about him being caught in Mother’s line of fire.

 

Henry comes rolling in then, and she feels a little lighter when he smiles up at her, his cheeks dimpling adorably. An idea suddenly strikes her, and she pushes a few locks out of her face before addressing Emma.

 

“Who takes care of Henry? When you work?” She knows Emma’s not home during the majority of the night, and she’s wondering what happens to him during the night.

 

Emma’s back stiffens a little at the question and she takes a moment before answering. “Ruby doesn’t work the night shift, so she usually takes him for the whole night.” 

 

“I can stay with him tonight.” August adds from his place on the island. “I haven’t watched over the little man in a while.”

 

Emma eyes him suspiciously and turns to him fully after turning the stove off. “Are you fighting with Sheila again?” 

 

August glares at her and throws a wadded up napkin. “No. There’s nothing to fight about anymore.”

 

Emma’s gaze softens and she goes to the fridge to pull out a beer, placing it neatly by August. “Stop leaving your liquor here. This is an underage household.” Her voice is gentle and not scolding like it should be, and Regina wonders how sweet this woman can truly be.

 

*

 

Diner is a quiet event, with Henry sloppily throwing noodles everywhere before Emma sighs and hands him a bottle instead. August keeps a steady flow of conversation throughout, which Regina begrudgingly thanks him for. Her mind is elsewhere despite the pleasant company she keeps, but she can’t steer clear from the conversation for too long.

 

“So, where are you from, Regina?” August shoves spaghetti into his already full mouth. She pulls a face at him.

 

“Storybrooke, Maine.” August nods encouragingly, and she describes a quaint town run by an elder Mayor and a lack of mobility in its place. She adds the last part bitterly, even now thinking of Mother.

 

August drops the subject after that and soon he’s picking up plates and Emma’s saying goodbye to Henry, planting wet kisses on his laughing face. As they’re about to leave, she turns around one more time and hugs him tightly before stepping back and going out the apartment.

 

The walk to the diner is quiet with Emma not trying to make small talk for once. 

 

She suspects it has something to do with leaving Henry behind.

 

*

 

The walk back to the apartment is filled with Emma excitingly retelling some of Regina’s most embarrassing moments inside the diner.

 

It had been a scandalous affair, trying to balance all of the tables at once and not snapping at customers. The tips they left behind commented on what was left to be desired from her attitude (and her attempts at balancing trays full of plates) but Regina doesn’t think she did so bad.

 

A thought Emma clearly doesn’t agree with, as she maneuvers her way down the sidewalk while retelling in full detail the moment one of the plates slid off the tray, swinging her duffel bag around. She thinks Emma might be exaggerating because the whole diner did not ‘gasp in surprise and second-hand embarrassment’, but she has to admit that the whole event was mortifying.

 

There had been good moments though, like when Emma had pressed her hip against hers as she was showing her how to balance a tray in her hand (Regina would blame that distraction as the cause of her lack of skill, but she’s pretending there was nothing to be distracted by in the first place). It must have been her exhaustion, or the way she’d inhaled too many fumes as she was scrubbing dishes, but she actually enjoyed the blonde’s presence so close to her body.

 

Shaking her head to clear her mind of these thoughts, she focuses on Emma guffawing her way through another story. Her bangs had fallen from her loose ponytail by the time it hit 1 a.m. and it was now curling slightly around her face. Tearing her eyes from Emma’s inexplicably soft look, Regina realizes they're at their building already. She thinks Emma might just drop her off to the front door, but she surprises her as she walks her all the way up to the faint blue door. 

 

“So, uh- August is probably asleep in the living room, with Henry in his crib next to him, so the room’s all yours, okay?” Emma nods as if answering her own question. “Well, until I get home, anyways.”

 

Regina nods and thanks her silently.

 

“You sure you’ll be okay?” Emma tilts her head to the side, and if she didn’t know better she’d think that the blonde was concerned for her. Except she doesn’t know her at all, so perhaps the concern is real.

 

“I’ll be fine. Thank you.” Regina’s feet are killing her, and although she can feel her body weighing heavily, she knows she’ll get little to no sleep tonight. 

 

Emma just looks at her like she wants to say something else, but just shakes her head and lets Regina in to the apartment. She’s about to step through when a warm hand catches her wrist.

 

“Listen, um. If you need _anything,_ just steal August’s phone and call me, okay? You’re okay with him staying here?”

 

Regina’s really not okay with anything that is happening, but she’d rather have August by her side than to be left alone again, so she nods reassuringly.

 

“Okay. Well, I’ll be back soon. Goodnight.” Emma shrugs and smiles shyly, the expression so odd and out of place from what she’s seen so far in Emma, that Regina can’t help but smile a small smile back.

 

“Goodnight, Emma.” 

 

*

 

August snores.

 

Loudly and like the breath is being stolen from him. Regina wonders how Henry is sleeping through all of it.

 

 

*

  _Something whizzes past her face, mere centimeters from actually causing any harm, and she runs runs runs until there’s hands around her waist._

 

_She kicks and kicks, still with a little fight in her, and Mother works to quickly extinguish that fire. She doesn’t scream because she knows what might happen if she opens her mouth, so she twists and twists until Mother puts her down._

_“Please, please, I’ll be good. I promise!”_

 

_“That’s all I wanted to hear, darling.”_

 

_A cold hand is pressed to her cheek, fooling Regina into leaning against it, before Mother rears back and slaps her across the face._

 

_She tries not to scream but she’s ten and still believes Mother loves her._

 

_*_

 

She wakes in panic, arms thrashing around and a scream close to ripping through her throat, but it remains inside her chest.

 

Some lessons are harder to unlearn. 

 

She settles against the pillows, her heart hammering and her hair sticking to her forehead, but she remains still until her heart no longer beats against her fingertips and her eyes droop.

 

*

 

_It’s not Mother who knocks on her closet door._

 

_She recognizes that knock, and with more speed than her broken little body should have allowed, she throws the door open and flies into Daddy’s arms._

 

_She’s crying as he strokes her hair, but he’s mumbling something in Spanish and her shoulders relax._

 

_“She didn’t mean it, amor. Mommy had a rough day at the office, okay? She loves you very, very much.” Daddy still calls Mother “mommy”, even when Mother requested a new name, and even when her face grows dark any time it slips from her lips._

 

_“She didn’t mean it,” he keeps repeating, and if she could just make her heart understand, she’d be fine._

 

_She’s twelve and she still believes Mother cares for her._

 

_*_

 

She doesn’t wake in panic this time, but her hair is still sticking to her forehead. She kicks the covers off her, and that’s when she hits something solid that wasn’t there before. 

 

Turning, she spots Emma sprawled on the side of the bed, in what she thinks is her bar uniform, her mouth open a little as she drools on her hair. It must be a little past six, she thinks, because Emma’s finally home and the sun isn’t even out yet. 

 

Regina settles against the pillows and lets Emma’s breathing lull her back to sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a slow chapter, I know, but it'll pick up after this.
> 
> Thanks for reading, let me know what you think!!


	4. Chapter 4

Regina wakes to the sound of someone crying. With the week she’s having, she wouldn’t be surprised if it’s her who’s bawling, but as she blinks the sleep from her eyes she realizes the sound is coming from somewhere deeper into the apartment and from someone with much smaller lungs than hers.

 

The crying stops abruptly and she closes her eyes tiredly. She’s too comfortable where she’s at, the covers tangled at her waist because she grew hot in the middle of the night. She faintly remembers Emma sleeping next to her, a mess of curls and drool and freckles.

 

She’s a little more relaxed than when she went to sleep the night before, but she can feel her heart beat where her stitches are. She forgot about the fainting, the crying and the lack of sleep, but her treacherous head is now reminding her very painfully. Maybe Emma has some Advil. Or coffee.

 

There’s no window in the apartment, but the kitchen light illuminates enough of Emma’s bedroom for Regina to see that there’s nobody next to her anymore. There’s very little in the room, she’s barely noticing now. She figures she might as well familiarize herself with it since it’s now technically hers and Emma’s. The thought still makes her faintly blush, and with an exasperated sigh, she gets up.  

 

The alarm clock next to Emma’s bed, which is on the floor on top of a stack of books, says it’s 8:23, just a few hours after Emma came in from work. There’s a few tiny socks scattered over the floor, as well as one purple sock with mustaches that must be Emma’s. Other than the bed, there’s only a dresser and a battered rocking chair in one corner of the room, with a baby blanket draped over the back. She can see the faint outline of a word, a name probably, but Regina’s more interested in what’s on the dresser. 

 

There’s a picture of Henry framed, a little younger than he is now, dressed in a blue onesie and beanie. Another stack of books is balanced precariously one on end, but other than that, there’s few objects. There’s make up items scattered around, a water bottle and a couple of earrings. Emma doesn’t seem to have much, unlike Regina who had boxes of jewelry and pictures lining up her dresser.

 

She’s about to leave, feeling a little more than invasive without Emma in the room, when she notices something peeking from behind the stack of books. She gently springs it out, a large white triangle that’s empty except for a museum stamp at the very bottom. She turns it around and smiles at the familiar painting, one of the many flowers from Monet. She wants to say she’s surprised, but realizing that she doesn't know much about Emma, Regina just files the information away for later.

 

Finally exiting the room, Regina follows the sound of faint talking and enters the living room There’s nobody in sight and she’s about to walk to the kitchen when she spots Henry’s head popping up from one of the seats on the couch. 

 

Walking closer though, she realizes Emma’s curled up as much as she can be in the couch with Henry on her stomach. There’s a hand secured behind his back, and another holding his leg but Emma’s eyes are closed and she seems to be breathing deeply. There’s a cup of coffee on the floor, half-empty and still steaming. 

 

Someone clears their throat behind her and her heart stutters in its place. Remembering that Mother’s a couple hundred miles away, Regina turns around. 

 

August is leaning against the hall opening with a cup of coffee and he motions for her to follow him. Looking at the cup in his hands, she happily obliges. 

 

“Ruby’s here.” He whispers as she passes by him, and sure enough, the leggy brunette is standing in the kitchen preparing a cup of coffee. She smiles brightly at her, too brightly considering the hour Regina thinks, and hands her the cup.

 

“Thank you. And good morning.” There’s a comforting feeling in cradling the warm cup, so she settles it against her chest, letting the steam tickle her under her chin.

 

“Good morning! Emma made eggs, want some?” Ruby points her thumb behind her where there’s a pan with a lid on and Regina’s stomach rumbles uncomfortably. 

 

She shakes her head, and takes a sip of her coffee, not meeting Ruby’s questioning gaze. After a second she shrugs and begins serving two full plates. 

 

“Does she usually sleep like that?” Regina can’t help but ask, the picture of a slightly snoring Emma knocked out on the tiny couch, anchoring Henry to her still in her mind.

 

“Hm? Oh, yeah.” August is trying to steal from the plate Ruby set aside on the counter. “She barely got any sleep. She’ll be up in a while and then take another nap soon enough.” He manages to get a spoon full of scrambled eggs.

 

Ruby tisks and settles the plates on the little island. “Can you wake her up? She’ll forget to eat if we’re not here.” She rolls her eyes and goes to sit beside August.

 

Regina stands in the kitchen a second longer than necessary and turns around, inexplicably nervous at seeing Emma again.

 

She doesn’t know if Emma’s in a deep sleep or not, but just in case she flails around, Regina takes Henry in her arms. He’s been playing with Emma’s hair and it’s now tangled up in bunches around her shoulders.

 

With Henry resting on her hip, she bites her lip, contemplating how to wake the sleeping blonde. Regina ends up poking Emma’s forehead with her finger until Emma’s swatting her hand away. She rolls over uncomfortably on the couch and it takes Emma exactly two seconds to realize that she shouldn't have been able to do that with a child on her stomach. 

 

Emma springs up, dry drool at the corner of her mouth and her hair a giant cloud around her head. In short, she looks adorable and Regina clears her throat before her thoughts get ahead of herself.

 

Emma turns wide eyes at her and zero in on Henry, letting out a breath and slumping over.

 

“Hey,” she croaks out, rubbing her eyes, her hand coming out dark with make-up. Emma notices too late and grumbles up, cursing a little as she stumbles to the bathroom.

 

Regina stays in the tiny living room, a little perplexed and more than a little amused. Waking Emma up might be her favorite thing to do. 

 

In the kitchen, Ruby and August are having a competition on who can eat more eggs; so far Ruby is eating and August is trying to steal her fork. It’s a simple morning that makes her ache for more; friends, family, happiness. Before she can go down the rabbit hole with darker thoughts, Emma comes in, blindly searching for a cup while she’s rubbing at her wet face. 

 

Ruby passes her a cup of coffee and it takes Emma three sips for her to finally one her eyes. 

 

“Good morning,” she grumbles out and goes to serve herself. “Are you eating?” She’s looking at Regina over her shoulder again and before she can shake her head and come up with an excuse, Emma says, “Yeah, you are.”

 

Ruby snickers with her cheeks full of eggs and Regina’s struck with something that feels like care. It spreads over her chest and makes her feel warm, so she sits next to Ruby and waits for Emma to place the plate in front of her. Almost immediately, Henry reaches for it but he’s swept up by a blur of blonde hair.

 

“Oh no, mister. It’s the bottle for you.” She tinkers around the kitchen with Henry on her hip, happily gurgling and drumming his wet fist on Emma’s shoulders. 

 

Regina looks down at her food, its appetizing color and smell doing nothing to make her want to eat. She knows what this is, doesn’t want to give it a name or dwell on it for too long so she takes a deep breath and gingerly places a forkful in her mouth.

 

August and Ruby and staring at her with concern, but both smile immediately when she notices, their smiles stretched thin over filled cheeks. She tries smiling back, she really does, but the eggs are going down her throat painfully and she’s thinking of Mother hovering over her shoulder as she eats. 

 

Emma’s still moving around but Regina notices that she looks over the table more often than not, eying the way Regina eats and how she’s rigid in her seat. In a move that Regina thinks might become common between them, Emma drops Henry on her lap, bottle in hand and sits next to her to eat.

 

His weight is comforting and heavy, and the eggs go down easier after that. She tries smiling at Emma but she won’t meet her eye, hiding behind a curtain of hair as she settles down.

 

“So. What are we doing today?” Ruby speaks around a mouthful, and Emma throws her a napkin to clean the food she accidentally spits out.

 

“August works-“

 

“No, I don’t! I’m all yours today.”

 

Emma rolls her eyes but continues. “And I need to buy a bunch of crap. Groceries, diapers, all that fun stuff.” She pokes Henry in the stomach, making him tip forward. Regina places a hand on his chest and brings him against her, mindful of the table and the items on it.

 

Emma looks pleased after that for some reason Regina doesn’t understand. There’s a lot of talk after that with Ruby and August asking about Regina’s shifts and soon they’re all reliving the story of how Regina made a fool of herself in front of the whole diner.

 

She’s blushing but can’t stop laughing along with them and it all feels right from Ruby’s loud laugh to Emma’s snorts and Henry’s clapping. She feels light and heavy at the same time, with a treacherous thought entering her mind in the middle of the laughing and smiling.

 

This is the first time she feels free.

 

It’s a bitter sweet thought, one that makes her think of silent afternoons helping Mother cook, or hushed whispers with Daddy as they sneak through the house. Here, nobody scolds Ruby for banging her fist on the table as Emma mimics the face Regina did as the tray fell, or snaps at August for leaning too back in his chair. Regina’s still in her pajamas, borrowed from Emma, and Emma’s still in last night’s crumpled clothes. Nobody has brushed their teeth yet and Regina doesn’t know if this is adulthood or freedom. 

 

She settles for freedom.

 

 

 

It’s August’s turn to clean the dishes according to Ruby. Regina has the feeling that the two spend most of their time around this little apartment. The thought it solidified when she finds shoes a size too big to be Emma’s laying around and a leather jacket hanging behind the bathroom floor. 

 

Emma cleans up the living room and instructs Regina to hang up her clothes and to get ready to leave soon. Ruby’s sweeping the floor and singing, and if it weren’t for the fact that there’s only one room, she might’ve thought that they all lived here.

 

Henry follows her crawling to the room and with his help, mostly just looking at her with wide eyes, Regina finishes quickly. 

 

“Let’s goo!,” Ruby hollers and Emma comes rushing into the room to pick up Henry. She’s changing him out of his onesie from last night, slipping him out from the his little undershirts.

 

“Can you pass me an outfit? Whichever one.” Emma’s making quick work of the diaper now, and Regina looks away. She finds a green long sleeved shirt with a dinosaur print and blue pants. Emma dresses him quickly and sets him in the middle of the bed before starting to undress herself.

 

“Are you ready?” She’s trying to pull on some tights, balancing on one leg. 

 

“Uh, n-no.” Regina has to look away and changes into a warm green sweater, its scent comforting. 

 

“Hurry!” Emma’s throwing on a sweatshirt over a long sleeved black shirt, her jeans already in place. “Have you seen my jacket?” Regina finds it crumpled in the corner, and hands it to her as she braids her hair down her back.

 

Emma pauses as she’s looking for Henry’s little jacket, the boy swaying on top of the bed and looking at them curiously. 

 

“Can you braid my hair like that?” Regina blinks at her, trying to fit her boots into her socked feet on the edge of the bed.

 

“Sure,” she says because there’s nothing else to say when the girl offering you a home and food and job asks for something. “Sit.” 

 

Emma sits in front of Henry, her back to Regina who’s studying her hair with something like distaste. It’s tangled and puffy and there’s barely any signs of yesterday’s curls but she grabs a comb with confidence. Emma complains the _entire_ time and Regina actually finds that she’s enjoying untangling her hair and running her hands through it. She accidentally brushes her fingers over Emma’s forehead as she’s parting her hair trough the middle and she can’t help the blush, however ridiculous it is. 

 

She finishes quickly after that, smoothing out the bumps with lithe fingers and making it tight enough that strands won’t fall out. She pats Emma on the shoulder twice to signal that she’s done and Emma rushes to the bathroom.

 

“I love it!” she hears muffled through the walls and Regina takes notice of this happy Emma who’s not a mother, or a foster child, but a bubbly teenager. She picks Henry up, putting on his jacket while Emma checks and rechecks her hair. 

 

When she comes out of the restroom, she grins at Regina and grabs her hand, leading her out of the apartment, Ruby and August are already out and the five of them walk into the cold streets, bundled up and _happy_.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Flashbacks and panic attacks present in this chapter. 
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me, your comments are all so lovely! I have an idea of where this story is going, but I'm open to any suggestions or additions.

"Do you like green or red apples? I only like green with peanut butter but since Henry’s allergic we can’t really have that around the apartment.” Emma placed a green apple back on the stack after turning it over a few times. She looked over at an unresponsive Regina who stared blankly at the produce in front of her. 

“Regina?” The brunette was vaguely aware that Emma had been talking non stop for the last five minutes, looking over different apples like a farmer would. Suddenly, there was a loud clap in front of her unfocused eyes, followed by a set of wide, green eyes trying to catch her attention.

“Yes, dear?” Regina shook her head to stay alert on the girl in front of her, thoughts of apple pies baked by strict and wrinkled hands interrupted.

“Red or green?” Emma held two apples in different hands, lowering one and rising the other as she asked, “Green, or red?”

“Oh, I prefer honeycrisp.” She smiled shyly at Emma as she threw both apples back to the stack and wheeled the cart to the other side.  

“I think I saw a sale on those!” Ruby exclaimed from her spot inside the cart. Her knees were pressed against the back of the seat where Henry was curiously looking around, banging on the handle in front of him. The brunette had climbed inside as soon as Emma seated Henry, and Regina had looked on with alarm as Ruby made herself comfortable, ignoring Emma’s grunts as she pushed the cart.

“Great.” Emma stopped in front of the desired apples and leaned on the cart handle, making faces at Henry as Ruby placed a few apples in a bag.  

“So, we’ve got toothpaste, toilet paper, batman socks for August, apples, batteries, formula, hair extensions for Ruby, diapers, tomatoes, onions, spinach for Regina, milk, noodles, chicken breast thingies. Am I missing anything that’s not in the produce area?” Emma let out in one long breath as Regina checked the list in her hands. Most items were crossed off except for a few.

“Pacifier for Henry, water bottles, and soap.” Regina read off the list. Emma nodded and rubbed her hands together.

“Okay, you finish the list here and I’ll get the rest and drag August away from buying too many things.” She pressed a kiss on Henry’s forehead, her eyes shutting close for a brief second before she turned to leave.

Regina’s eyes followed after her until Emma disappeared behind a bassinet of french bread, her eyes lingering on her swaying braid. She turned to look over at Ruby who had a mysterious smirk on her face. 

Regina cleared her throat and moved in front of the cart, tickling Henry’s rounded stomach until he let out a breathy laugh, pointedly ignoring Ruby’s look.

“ _So_ , how’s Emma treating you?” Ruby raised both eyebrows innocently, as if she hadn’t been around for the majority of Regina’s stay, witnessing just how nicely Emma had been treating her. Regina eyes turned to slits but the other brunette merely smiled wider.

“She’s been a perfect hostess.” Regina replied curtly, not at all liking the way Ruby was analyzing her face. 

Ruby hummed and slowly lowered her eyebrows until Regina started moving the cart again, stopping on front of the strawberries.

“She’s pretty nice, huh?” Ruby egged on, leaning on the side of the cart, her chin pressed against it.

Distracted by reading the labels, Regina had no trouble answering, “Yes, she’s fairly pretty.” 

It took several seconds before she registered what she said and what was asked, but by the time she turned around, the damage had been done. Ruby was smiling wolfishly up at her, her smile so wide that her eyes were almost closed.

“I only mean that she’s, well- sure, she has a structured face but she’s also been very kind in letting me stay. And helping me get a job.” Ruby only smiled further, her eyes squinting dangerously. “And with my mother.” Regina finished lamely, not liking that Ruby was smiling knowingly at her 

“Sure. Are you gonna put the strawberries in?” And with that Ruby let her mistake go, but by the way she was sneaking secret smiles her way, Regina feared it wasn’t the last time she’d be played by the girl.

A loud ringing interrupted their little awkward moment, and Ruby answered her phone while remaining eye contact with Regina.

“ _Hey_ , Emma.” Regina didn’t know what made her face turn a hideous red, but she suddenly found herself feeling too warm around her cheeks. “Oh, I don’t know. Let me ask.” Ruby turned her attention to Regina again, her eyes dancing merrily. “Emma’s asking what size you are. Like, feet.” A quick press of the phone against her ear again and Ruby was correcting herself, “and shirt, too.”

Regina stared at Ruby for a second or two, and finally held her hand out, asking for the phone. Ruby grunted but handed it over anyways.

“Hello?” 

_“Hey, so there’s a couple of shirts around here that seem like your style. And I got you shoes for Granny’s because you can’t keep wearing those boots, but I don’t know what size you are?”_

“Oh.” Regina simply said because the last time somebody bought her anything just because it seemed like her style was when she was six and Mother bought her a purple cardigan. It wasn’t until she entered school that year that she realized Mother hand’t bought it for her because purple was her favorite color, it had been a part of the uniform. 

_“Regina?”_

It was getting ridiculous, these constant thoughts of Mother invading her at any moment.

“Size eight, in shoes. And small for the shirts.”

_“Cool. I found August, we’re on our way.”_ Emma hung up after that without so much as a goodbye, and Regina was beginning ti suspect that it was something Emma constantly did. 

She handed the phone back to Ruby who was arranging the different items around so she could sit better. 

“What’d she want?” Ruby peered curiously up at her, the look almost identical to Henry’s. The question was a little intrusive but Regina was slowly getting used to this type of life, where people stuck together and bought each other clothes.

“She found a few clothes for me.” She tried shrugging like her stomach wasn’t in turmoil and there wasn’t a newfound warmth in her chest. Ruby nodded but kept looking curiously at her, as if she knew something Regina didn’t. 

Suddenly Ruby perked up and shouted, “We forgot the shoe laces!” 

“Shoe laces? For who?” Regina looked down at the list, sure that she hadn’t seen it written in Emma’s slight handwriting.

“Emma. She’s always tearing them and then insisting that they’re good for another few months.” Ruby clicked her tongue in disapproval and looked at Regina until she turned the cart around. 

They gathered the laces (checkered, Ruby insisted) and met with Emma and August who was balancing a comic with a box of donuts. He smiled widely at her while Emma rolled her eyes, a slight smile on her face.

“Let’s go before August runs off again. Oh- here.” Emma thrust a couple of items into Regina’s arms, and she looked down with interest. Simple black tennis shoes with laces were neatly placed in a box, and a few red and black shirts were hanging awkwardly off Regina’s arms as she tried examining them. The shirts were simple enough, long sleeved in deep colors but as Regina looked on she noticed they had a few patterns and some even had cute lace adorning the hems. 

She looked up to find Emma nervously looking at her from the corner of her eye, and Regina made sure to smile brightly at her and show her gratitude. 

“I noticed you only had a few clothes so I thought these should do for now, until we get payed next month.” Emma relaxed as Regina only smiled further. Truthfully, buying clothes from a supermarket was far, _far_ from her style but Regina found that she didn’t mind in the slightest. 

The four of them made their way to the cashiers, Emma occasionally stroking Henry’s back and soothing him when he got too fussy, and Ruby swinging her legs off the side of the cart. August was rummaging through his pockets after dumping his items in Ruby’s lap. 

By the time they placed everything in the conveyor belt, Ruby and Emma joined August in taking things out of their pockets. As Regina looked on, she noticed Ruby taking neatly cut coupons out of her bag and setting apart the ones she knew they needed, as well as taking a few dollar bills out of her pocket. August and Emma took a few crumpled bill from their jeans, and smoothed them out as they handed them to Ruby. 

The brunette brightly counted the money and handed it back to the cashier along with the coupons and within minutes, the three of them looked relieved that they had enough to buy everything.

“You didn’t _have_ to buy donuts, Auggie.” Ruby reprimanded him, looking over the receipt as they walked towards the exit.  

“But I payed for those! _And_ they were on sale!” The four of them exited the store, with Emma pushing the cart, now Ruby-less, and stopped to take the bags out. 

Regina was taking a few bags out of the cart when she noticed a particularly familiar car pass by on the street over, its black tinted windows sending a shiver down her spine. 

The bags thudded loudly as they dropped back into the cart, Regina’s hand seizing into tight fists as she watched the car slowly drive past them. The three others, plus Henry’s unintelligent mumbling went unnoticed by Regina who stood paralyzed, waiting for the car’s inevitable stop in front of her.

It was a car she knew well, it’s black expensive leather always too cool to the touch, just as Mother had been. She stumbled backwards, jostling the cart and making Henry cry out. Her breathing suddenly became labored, and she shook her head back and forth until her vision became blurry and the only thing she could see was the black car.

“Regina?” She felt a familiar hand at her elbow, but the sudden touch felt too strong, too demanding and Regina found herself lashing out. “Regina!” 

“I need to- she’s _here_.” She wasn’t sure who to talk to, just that there was the very big possibility that Mother would come out of the car and roughly send her back to Storybrooke. “She’s here!” She whispered madly as she tripped over her shoes in her attempt to walk down the opposite way. She heard her name being called out but payed no attention to it, looking only at the floor, trying to flee as fast as possible.

She heard footsteps behind her, rapidly approaching and she picked up her speed, panting and dodging people as she turned one building, only to be found in an alley. She bent forward, hands clasped on her knees as she panted, the back of her throat itching.

“Regina!” 

The brunette spun around quickly, ready to run again, until she spotted a flash of blonde and a red hoodie. Emma was barely breathing hard, compared to Regina who was on the verge of collapsing. 

“Are you okay?” a concerned Emma inquired, reaching out to touch her.

“Get away!” At that, Regina finally managed to trip, sliding her hands across cold asphalts and landing hard on her back.

“Okay, okay. Just, um. It’s Emma, it’s just me. And Henry’s over there, like two streets over waiting for you to tickle him, and August has donuts, it’s just us.” Emma crouched down on one knee, peering at Regina through her hair. “ You’re in an alley way in New York, okay? Your mom’s in Maine, probably making somebody cry, but you’re _here_ with me.”

Regina only shook further, scrambling away as Emma’s words slowly cut through the haze of her panicked mind.Her hands scraped further as she tried dragging herself away from Emma, blood slowly pooling on her palms.

_“Regina, dearest, come talk to me after you’re done putting your clothes away.”_

_She’s seventeen, barely reaching Mother’s height but old enough to know that she’d be sore come the next morning at a request like that. She folded her laundry slowly, buying time until she couldn’t put it off any longer._

_“Mother?”_  

_The door to the study was closed but she could hear voices near the foyer, unfamiliar and masculine. She smoothed out her dress shirt and followed suit._

_“Ah, Regina. I was just welcoming Dr. Charles and his son in.”Mother had a certain twinkle in her eye that meant Regina should run as fast as she should towards the nearest door, but Mother was always faster. She gripped at her elbow as Regina said hello, gripped harder until she extended her arm to shake hands._

_“Dr. Charles and I have some business to discuss. Regina, why won’t you take Richard to your room and show him around?” Mother’s smile was wicked and something inside Regina’s stomach coiled so harshly that she almost said no._

_Of course, she did no such thing._

“Regina? I don’t know who Richard is? It’s just me. Emma with the kid, you e-mailed me a couple of days ago, got in a train from Maine and you’ve been staying at my place. You work at Granny’s with me and Ruby, remember?”

A flash of green eyes was all she could see until she shook further and cried out.

_The boy was simple looking enough, a couple of years older than her, already in college. She guided him through the stairs and let his hand hover over her waist, until they were both upstairs._

_“You have a lovely home, Regina.” He flashed her a smile she was sure he thought was charming, but only came off as condescending. “It’s almost as lovely as you.”_

_She tried not roll her eyes at that, just stretched her lips into a brittle smile and bought herself some time. She didn’t know what Mother had planned, but the way the boy kept looking at her gave her quite the idea._

_“And this is the restroom. I’d show you Mother’s room but I’m sure she’d be most displeased.” She kept her voice cool and detached, years of learning from Mother suddenly paying off. The only other room to show him was hers, as she was sure Mother would go investigate if she showed him downstairs._

_She led him to her room, leaving the door open and staying as far from him as she could._

_“And this is me. Would you like something to drink?” The boy moved around her room with interest, peering into the trophies lining up her bookcase._

_“These yours?” He sounded mildly impressed and the sound only made her dislike him more._

_“Yes, I do quite well in_ **_high school_ ** _.” She hoped that deterred him, but to her horror, he looked up with a certain glint in his eye that made her stomach drop drop drop._

 “Let’s try this again, okay? Can you tell me where you are? What can you immediately see?”

Another flash of concerned green eyes and Regina uttered the only word she could.

“You.”

“Okay, do you know who I am?” The blonde tilted her head to the side and smiled encouragingly, her thin lips cracking in the winter air.

“Emma, you’re Emma from New York.” 

The blonde breathed a sigh of relief. “Good, that’s good.” 

Regina’s shoulder relaxed the slightest, until Emma tried reaching out again, her hand centimeters away from her elbow.

_The boy moved towards her with an odd gait, it would've been attractive if she didn’t feel to cornered, so forced._

_“What else do you do quite well?” Her stomach rolled uncomfortably at his words, his eyes only making her afraid. He was much taller than she was, brown hair reaching more than a few inches over her, and strong arms protruding from his sleeved shirt._

_“Excuse me?” She tried deflecting, he was getting too close now and she didn’t have anywhere else to go._

_“Awe, come on. You know what I mean.” He was almost close enough for him to reach out. “Our parents are busy, isn’t that why you invited me here?”_

_Regina shook her head fiercely, but the boy reached out, tired of talking and gripped where Mother’s hand had laid before._

_His body pressed against her, and she had a second to see Mother’s dancing eyes urging her to play along before he was suddenly on her._

“Okay, okay, let’s not do that again. Can you, can you tell me where you are.” Emma sounded calm, but looking up at her eyes she could see the tightness around them, the coiling of her fingers and the tense way her shoulder were angled towards Regina.

“An alley?” How had she gotten there?

“Yes! Yes, so what can you feel, like under your hands?” 

She tried to concentrate on the feeling, not at all aware of where she was.

_He tasted like toothpaste and gum, like he had recently cleaned his mouth for this. Regina squirmed underneath his grip, her head thrown back awkwardly as he tried entering her mouth. She kept tight-lipped until his hands roughly grabbed her chin._

“Regina? What can you feel?”

“Hands, his hands.” She panted out.

“Okay, there’s nobody here but you and me. There’s concrete under hands, can you feel that?”

She tried focusing, and suddenly she could feel how her hands hurt and stung, how there were little rocks digging into her palms.

“Y-yes.”

“Okay, good, good. What do you smell?” Emma’s brow furrowed, and if Regina wasn’t trembling so easily, she might have found the look comical.

_His breath was on her face now, and his eyes were so smug and dark that she did the only sensible thing she could think of, she kneed him straight in the groin._

_He stumbled back cursing under his breath, and in that moment Mother called her downstairs. She had never been so relieved to hear her name._

“Regina? Just one more time, okay? What do you smell? You can even say my dirty hair if you want.”

At that, Regina’s eyes snapped to Emma’s braid, her long blonde hair something familiar.

“I, I smell trash. Like a dumpster’s nearby.” Emma cracked a smile at that, but it wasn’t enough and Regina’s mind delved under again.

_She rushed downstairs, the groaning boy following until they met with their parents, and Regina tried to look as presentable as she could. The doctor rushed to his side, Regina could see that words were exchanged but all the could focus on was Mother’s thunderous eyes._  

_The family of two left, and Regina wasn’t sure if they left on a good note or not, all she could do was think about Mother’s wrinkled hands and how she wished Daddy was here._

_Almost as if on cue, Daddy walked through the door, smiling brightly, unable to read the room._

_“Amor mio!” He hugged her tight and placed a hand on her cheek before coldly pressing a chaste kiss on Mother’s lips._

_“We were just leaving, Henry. Regina and I have some shopping to do.”_

_“But I just got here!” Henry exclaimed, not noticing the way Regina had turned pale, how Mother’s voice was cold cold cold._

_“Now, Regina.”_

“What about what you taste? Or, or what else do you smell?” Emma stopped trying to hide her concern, slowly inching towards a slightly less relaxed Regina. 

“I don’t know, I don’t know!” She tried running a hand down her hair, but her fingers were entangled by her braid.

“Okay, how about I try it, yeah?”

Regina nodded, almost on the verge of curling up on this alleyway, clutching herself until every piece of her fit nicely together, whole. 

“We’re in an alleyway and it smells terrible. Like a cat died, and somebody set it on fire and then threw it away. And it’s cold and windy so you’re probably really cold, right? Do you feel that?” 

At that, Regina became aware that she had goosebumps along her arms and legs, her jacket forgotten somewhere with Henry or Ruby or August. She nodded regardless, inching closer to Emma.

“Yeah, so it’s a little cold but then we can go home and drink some hot chocolate until we have to work. But anyways, we’re in the alleyway and there’s concrete beneath us, it’s this weird grayish color and I’m pretty sure I’m stepping in a puddle of pee.” Regina looked down, her mind centering slightly as she looked at where Emma was crouched.

“Also, we’re really close to the street so I can hear people yelling a lot, and there’s cars honking and some swearing. Do you hear that?” The noise suddenly burst through her bubble and she could hear the city move.

She unruled herself from her position, still a little disorientated and still on the verge of losing, but she let the cool air hit her face and chest.

“Okay, let’s stand up. May I?” Emma reached a hand out and at that, Regina flinched.

_“You foolish girl! What did you do?” Mother’s words cut her to pieces, the only thing keeping her together was the seatbelt digging across her chest._

_“He kissed me, Momma!” The name slipped through her lips regretfully and Mother reached over, backhanding her across the face._

_“And what did you do? You didn’t reciprocate?” Her eyes turned to slits, and Regina’s eyes watered as her blood turned cold. She stuttered, the memory of him sliding his hands down her waist turning her mind numb._

_She saw Cora raise her hand and Regina reached for the door handle a second too late, her head hitting hard across the glass._

_For a second she saw the trees pass by, green and yellow before her mind went under, Mother’s voice resonating through her head._

_Foolish girl._

“I’m not going to hurt you! It’s just me, okay? Trust me, I won’t hurt you _ever_ , I promise!” Emma’s words were whispered frantically enough that Regina snapped her eyes to her face. It was open in its earnestness, and Regina sagged across the alleyway.

“Let’s do this one more time, okay?” There was long pause where Regina breathed through her nose, her head in between her knees, until she nodded.

“We’re in an alleyway. It smells awful and I’m so cold I can’t feel my hands anymore. It’s cloudy-“ Regina looked up to make sure she was correct, “it’s cloudy and Henry’s waiting for us, and Ruby and August.”

Emma smiled encouragingly. “Yeah, it’s just you and me right now though, your mom is-“

“Back in Maine, yes.” Regina sagged further and she waited until her heart felt like it would remain in her body to finally straighten up. 

“Right. You’re in New York.” 

Regina only nodded absently, waiting for her mind to settle on the truth around her. She found herself looking at Emma more than anything else, her familiar piercings and bright hair settling something in her chest. 

They sat like that, the two of them breathing in sync until Regina could remember how she ran and what she ran from. She chuckled nervously, suddenly embarrassed in front of Emma, but when she looked up, Emma wasn’t smiling deprecatingly at her, or with pity. She just smiled a little wider until Regina thought she could finally stand. 

“Can I- can I still go back to the apartment?” She asked hesitantly, her mind set on years of insecurities.

Emma’s brow furrowed until her face cleared in recognition. “Of course! Yeah, don’t- don’t even ask, Regina. Come on.” She stood up and gingerly stretched her arm out until she took it and stood, her tense muscles complaining. 

“You’re going to be fine at the apartment. We just want to help, okay? Me and Auggie and Rubes.” Emma made sure to keep her distance once Regina stood, her hands awkwardly placed in her hoodie. She shrugged indifferently but looked at her with bright, honest eyes.

“Why? Do you have any experiences with running away from people?” Regina looked at her hands then, missing the look that flashed across Emma’s face. Her words came out without meaning too, her embarrassment getting the better of her.

“Yeah, actually. But I also just want to help. Okay?” Emma tilted her head and bore her eyes to Regina until she smiled apologetically. Emma shrugged again and took a step forward. “Can I see your hands?” 

Regina automatically placed her bloodied hands on Emma’s outstretched ones, noticing for the tenth time how Emma’s brow furrowed and how she bit her lip worriedly. 

“We’ll get his cleaned up over there, okay? Let me just take some rocks out.” Emma was standing close and for once the proximity was welcoming, uncharacteristically so, especially after an episode like that. There was just something about the way Emma rubbed circles on the back of her hands squinting down at them, how she looked up shyly through her eyelashes to ask if they hurt, that made Regina feel safe for the first time in a very long time. 

“You good?” Emma was still close enough that she could feel her breath tickling her frozen cheeks, the warmth welcoming. 

Regina nodded and Emma finally let her hands fall gently. She tilted her head towards the entrance of the alley, a silent invitation to leave and Regina squared her shoulder and started walking on shaky legs. 

The path back would have been more terrifying if she hadn’t felt a hand ghost on the small of her back the whole way.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, let me know what you think!!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a story about abuse, so there's going to be a lot of ugly things. There's a lot of relapses in abuse and fights and tears. There's a point where it all just sounds repetitive, but I'm not trying to do so in this story. 
> 
> That being said, let me know if I deviated from my intended purpose, which is not to make it repetitive. This is also a story about healing, and I'm trying to find the in between. 
> 
> Anyways, I don't even know what I did here, but thanks for reading!

Ruby and August are standing where she left them, bundled up and anxiously shifting around. Ruby’s cradling a cold Henry in her arms as both adults talk in hushed whispers, their heads pressed together as they search for warmth in the cold morning street. Once they notice Regina and Emma walking back, Ruby rushes to Emma’s side, Henry already reaching out for her, nearly jumping out of the brunette’s arms. 

“Everything okay?” She’s eyeing Regina with concern that is rolling off her in waves, nearly palpable. She must notice Regina’s hunched shoulders or how jittery she feels because the normally touchy brunette doesn’t reach out. Instead she hovers over her, her attention nearly nauseating. 

“Yup.” Emma pops out. “Let’s go home, yeah?” The two girls look at Regina for confirmation, and she merely nods weakly, her legs still like water, making her feel like she’ll collapse at any moment.

August reaches forward then, handing Ruby a familiar coat. He smiles kindly at Regina, trying not to make a big deal of how there’s blood dripping down her finger tips, or how she must look like hell.

Ruby drapes the coat over her shoulders and Regina feels like a child being fussed over, with Ruby nodding as she fiddles with the collar. It would have been too much, the three of them looking her over with kind and soft eyes, if she weren’t such a stranger to this type of care. 

Instead, their hovering and fussing, strange and embarrassing as it may be, only makes her feel warmer. 

 

*

 

“Maybe we need a vacation,” Ruby says a week after her impromptu panic attack, placing a tray of dirty plates on the counter, ready to be dumped into the soapy water by Regina. She rests her head on her hand while raising her eyebrows. “Something to take your mind away.”

“I don’t think _anything_ could really do that.” Regina turns her back to her, more than a little uncomfortable discussing this. “Besides, Granny wouldn’t just let three of her workers leave at the same time.” The easy job of scrubbing dishes, while at times soothing, only gives her more time to think about what happened that day and it’s making her mind numb and cranky.

“She wouldn’t?” Ruby asks playfully, standing up and making her way back to the tables.

Regina sighs, knowing already that a vacation is the last thing she needs. Order and busy work is what would keep her mind sane until she got back on her feet, not a soul searching trip where her mind would have to think about things she didn’t want to. She knew this wasn’t the most favorable approach, but she needed something that would stick, and so far pretending that nothing happened was the best solution. 

For now. 

She empties the sink and goes to wipe her hands clean when Ashley walks in, a pregnant and kind waitress that always smiles at Regina. 

“Granny says you’re on tables again,” she says apologetically, rubbing a hand down her stomach. “Emma and Ruby are already there, and Granny says you need the practice.” Her smile softens the truth, and Regina thanks her, already wrapping an apron against her uniform.

Emma’s busy with a table when she enters the main room so she looks around until she notices Ruby flagging her down with a cleaning rag. Smoothing her skirt over, she walks with purpose towards the busy brunette.

“You’ve got table three and five. Good luck!” Ruby smiles brightly at her and resumes cleaning down the bar, leaving Regina with a sense of foreboding. 

She fishes the plain notepad out from her apron and clears her throat as she makes her way to a full table, filled with loud men laughing. 

“Hello and welcome to Granny’s! Can I start you off with something to drink?” The table quiets down after that and suddenly she has three curious guys looking her over. She shifts where she’s standing, until one with dark brown hair speaks up.

“Sure, sweetheart. Coke for the three of us.” He smiles widely at her, roaming his eyes down her front until she forces her face to morph into something pleasant. 

“Be right up,” she tries to say cheerfully. His name calling makes her ears bleed, but she goes over to the next table and repeats the routine.

“Hey!” Emma smiles brightly at her, one hand balancing a tray and the other tucking a strand of (now clean) hair behind her ear. “How’s it going?” 

They’re both heading towards the soda machine behind in the kitchens, and Ashley waves happily from her spot washing dishes when they enter. 

“Alright, I guess. Some guy called me sweetheart.” She lifts a shoulder daintily as she fills three cups with Coke, Emma’s shoulder brushing against hers as she fills her own. 

“ _Uugh_.” Emma makes a gagging sound, looking over at her with eyes that says she’s been there. “Want me to spit in his food?” the blonde deadpans and Regina has a second to look disgusted before Emma starts giggling.

“No, but thanks for the offer.” Regina places the now full cups on the tray and lifts in gingerly into her shoulders. Emma does the same but keeps it away from her body, years of working making her more secure in her balancing.

“Sure thing, _sweetheart_.” Emma winks for good measure, an awkward shutting of both eyes that makes Regina laugh louder than she intended.

Once she hands everybody their drinks a while later, perfectly balancing the tray against her shoulders, she’s far more cheerful.

“What can I start you off with?” Her smile is a little more genuine this time, but it quickly becomes sour as the same guy leans forward to talk.

“What’s the most delicious thing here? Apart from you, of course.” He grins up at her impishly and she’s about to slice him with her tongue when Emma passes by behind her, laying a quick hand on her back while pretending to gag again. It only makes her smile further, something light taking flight inside her chest.

“I’d try the Fiesta Chicken. It’s a little _dry_ ,” she pauses and stares a little more pointedly at him, “but I’m sure it’d be right up your alley.” 

His smile falters after that and the rest of the evening is spent with him shooting daggers at her back. Emma laughs and claps her back after she tells her during a quick break, both of them resting their hips against the kitchen sink.

“What a _dog_!” Emma pulls a face as she readjusts her apron. “I mean, of course he’s not _wrong_ , but there’s better ways to say it!” She looks up with a wide smile, chuckling without abandon and Regina swats her with a dish rag.

Granny yells at them after that, but Emma sends her a quick smile, her green eyes dancing with mirth under the harsh light of the diner.

 

*

 

Of course, her little bubble of peace doesn’t last long. She thinks there must be some truth behind Mother’s fiercely whispered words; she really must create havoc wherever she goes. 

She’s finishing her second week staying with Emma and she’s already become familiar (and attached) to the way she matches Henry’s onesies with her socks (she caught a glimpse of Emma’s batman socks as she changed Henry into his dashing batman onesie, complete with a belt), the way she wears glasses when she’s finishing an assignment online, Henry perched on her knee as he slams his tiny hands on the keyboard. 

It’s an odd kind of peace, with Ruby and August popping in without hesitation, kissing Regina’s cheeks or squeezing her shoulder as they steal food or hand Emma a worn comic they found on sale. 

It’s nice and _warm_ , sipping hot chocolate that would normally be too sweet for her as she watches Emma cut strawberries into tiny pieces until she points the knife threateningly at her, grumbling about how she needs help cutting the bananas. 

It’s cramped, hearing Emma snore slightly as she falls into bed, exhausted but pleased with the tips of the night, handing them to Ruby the next morning so she can add it to her finances book, always checking that they have enough, that Henry’s being fed well, that Regina has enough shirts, that Ruby has a place to stay when Granny’s too much, that August always has a cold drink in his hand.

Regina’s never felt this whole in a long long time, which is why she isn’t surprised when it all comes tumbling down, the red curtain falling from this carefully manufactured safe haven she’s stumbled upon.

It starts with a dream, as most of Regina’s mornings do, except this time she can still feel dry hands wrapped around her thin arms, bruising and iron like when she wakes, gasping for breath. Emma isn’t there, which isn’t unusual but she wishes, not for the first time (although it’s getting odd, how much she’s come to _like_ Emma) that she were beside her with her easy to read green eyes.

She tries shaking it off, but Henry’s being particularly loud today, his lungs working a mile per minute as he shrieks and shrieks. The noise follows her to the bathroom where even the sound of water running doesn’t mask little Henry’s tantrum. It’s making her panicked and the ends of her fingers tingle uncomfortably. She knows what this is, even with the loud noises in her head and the water running down her face, she can tell that it’s the beginning of something _wrong_.

She pushes it down as much as she can, changing quickly and styling her hair until the kitchen is quiet and her hands stop shaking slightly. Her heart is still feeling hollow when she enters, a happy Henry playing dangerously close to Emma’s open laptop with his bowl of smashed strawberries. Emma waves tiredly from where she’s boiling water and Regina sighs in relief, realizing that Emma is having the exact day she’s having and won’t be upset if she’s far more subdued than usual.

They’re the only two in the apartment that morning and Regina rounds the island without bumping into anybody as she goes for a water bottle. Something catches her eye and she notices quickly that it’s Emma’s laptop, the screen slowly fading into sleep mode but not before she reads the title of the document she’s reading.

Water bottle forgotten, she slams her finger on the space bar to light up the screen once more and opens her mouth to say something, anything, scream into oblivion or cry, she’s not sure.

“What’s this?” Her voice is oddly calm and she’s grateful that her anger doesn’t manifest itself into a shaky voice. 

“Hm?” Emma looks over distractedly, dark bags adorning her pale face which pales even further when she notices Regina rigid by her laptop. “Oh. _That_.”

Regina doesn’t remember Emma plopping down in bed early that morning, jostling the bed like she usually does and suddenly a strange thought crosses her mind, that Emma had stayed up all night researching _this_ , and instead of the thought warming her chest, it only turns it to cold dust.

“Yes, this. What the hell does this mean.” It’s not exactly a question and Emma knows it by the way she’s shuffling her feet and turning the stove off.

Emma turns calmly and licks her lips once, dragging her teeth over her lower lip until it comes out red. “I just thought maybe this would help.” She tucks her hands in the back pocket of her jeans and meets Regina’s eyes head on.

“And why would I need that?” Regina’s patience has already been shot, and she pictures her head steaming with anger like in those shows that Henry claps along to.

“Help? Yeah, I think you might. And it’s not so much of a bad thing, Regina.” Emma’s previous nervousness returns when Regina slams the laptop closed, no longer able to look at the bold words reading, _“Tips For Friends and Family of a Domestic Violence Survivor.”_

Regina’s vision tunnels and she feels as if her blood’s being replaced by thick cotton, making her mind heavy with fear as the word _abuse_ flickers on and off in her mind.

Her mind snaps to attention as Emma takes a step forward, her feet apart and a too serious look on her face.

“It _is_ such a bad thing and I’d thank you to stay out of it.” Regina’s hands are trembling now so she clasps them together and takes a steadying breath. “I don’t want your help, or _tips_. What would you even know?”

“Maybe,” and Emma falters, her eyes shifting to the sides as she tries in vain not to stumble over words. “Maybe you _need_ some help. Even if it’s just mine.” She seems to find her confidence then, choosing to ignore Regina’s fuming head and curled hands, the defensive stand she’s sporting and how she looks two seconds away from falling apart. She stands taller and steels her nerves, meeting Regina’ red-rimmed eyes with calm.

“ _Maybe_ , you don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” Her nails dig into her clasped hands but she keeps a rigid back and her head high. “You wouldn’t know about having mothers, anyways.”

Emma’s expression cracks, there was no other way to phrase it. Like the surface of a broken mirror, her face ripples into desperate pieces for a fleeting second until she strides forward angrily.

“I know a good amount about having _and_ losing mothers, actually. Twenty-seven to be exact.” The blonde’s words are intended to be biting, if the way she’s curling her  top lip over her teeth is any indication, but her voice cracks at the last second and Regina’s vision blurs.

She goes from angry to regretful with such quickness that her head spins, but her anger returns when she spots the laptop again. She blocks Henry out, suddenly very still in his baby chair, looking at both of them with eyes that are too knowing, too serious. 

“ _Real_ mother’s.” Regina matches Emma’s stance, a scowl permanently set on her face.

If Regina felt any guilt for how Emma crumbled in front of her before, it was nothing compared to how fiercely her heart seizes in regret when she sees Emma’s face turn cold.

“No, wait!” Regina backtracks quickly, almost reaching out to the blonde.

The blonde turns around slowly, takes the pot out of the stove and slams it on the counter.

“Emma, please.” At her words, Emma only seems to hunch in on herself a little more, before turning around with wild eyes. She takes one look at Regina’s panicked expression and lets a sigh cross her lips.

“You don’t get to just pop into my life with all these problems and not expect me to try and help. It’s not working Regina, and I have Henry to think about!” Emma flails her arms around as she tries to think of the right words to say.

Regina’s anger returns quickly enough, the previous fiasco all but forgotten. “You have Henry to think about? What, so now I’m some sort of danger to him? I’m a problem?”

“What? No, Reg-”

“Is it because I bumped into the cart the other day? He didn’t even get a scratch, I had in under control!” There are tears pooling in Regina’s eyes now and she rubs angrily at them, embarrassed at showing such a weakness.

A guilty look passes Emma’s face and that’s all it takes for Regina to finally break.

“It is, isn’t it?! Well, I wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt him, unlike you with your- your _questionable parenting skills_!” She’s not sure if it's Emma or her with tears running down red cheeks. “I’m not her, I don’t hurt children and I don’t sell them out to older men and I don’t hit and hit and hit!” She punches the side of her thigh with every last word she says, unaware of how unhinged she’s become.

“Regina, that’s not what I fucking meant. And don’t talk to me about parenting skills because that’s rich coming from-“

“You can’t just fix people because you think they need it. You don’t get to decide what’s good and what’s normal and what’s _dangerous_.” She’s shaking her head fiercely and pointing a threatening finger at the blonde, who looks equal parts confused and furious. A quiet voice at the back of her head tells her that Emma _is_ good, the kindest person she’s met in her nineteen years, but she pays no attention to it.

Emma decides on anger instead of confusion and stalks forward, nose to nose with the crying brunette. 

“Well, you don’t get to not take care of yourself! You don’t decide if anybody helps you, or not, that’s fucking mad! Do you know I would’ve killed to have somebody _want_ to help me?” Emma’s breathing hard, her chest heaving as she tries not to lash out.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry but you can’t play your orphan card every time you’ve done something wrong.” Regina smiles wickedly, showing too many teeth and gleaming up at Emma with such wild and malicious eyes that Emma almost cries out.

“How is helping you something wrong?! And don't you fucking bring that up, Regina, I swear to-”

“I don’t want your help, I don’t need it!”

“Then why are you here? You don’t have to act like you’re fucking alone, like I’m not here to help! Why did you come here and _stay_ here if you didn’t need it, huh? Why did you-“ A sob escapes Regina’s mouth that makes Emma snap her mouth close, but Regina is far too gone to realize she’s stopped talking. They’re close enough that their shoes are touching, their heads a breath away as they keep yelling over each other.

“I don’t need it, I’m not weak! I’m not!” Regina beats her fists over Emma’s shoulders and if the blonde wasn’t so close to see how unfocused Regina’s eyes were, she might have thrown the brunette over her shoulder. 

“I’m not, I’m not!,” she repeats until Emma’s grabbing her shoulders and setting her by the couch, until she hears Henry cry out and keep shrieking. 

Her heart seizes again, or maybe it hadn’t stopped since she saw the laptop, but she can’t take it, this hollow feeling in her mind, her heart, her legs, so she does what she’s been doing lately and runs out of the apartment, the door hitting the frame with a final thud.

 

*

 

It’s a wild trip down the stairs with her hair getting caught in the corner of her wet mouth and eyes, making her stumble slightly until she’s at the bottom, panting or crying, she’s not sure. 

She doesn’t need help, not from a single mom, orphan of a child who still wears super hero underwear and eats cereal out of the box. But most importantly, she doesn’t need help _at all_ , because needing it means there is something that happened for her to reach out for help and so far, she’d been doing a stellar job of pretending _nothing_ had happened. 

Needing help would mean that Mother had won.

Needing help would mean that something horrible had happened in Storybrooke, so horrible that Regina shouldn’t be missing home, should be glad she’s away from _her_ , and that big mansion filled with pain.

Except Regina _does_ miss it, does miss _her_ , and it’s so twisted this feeling, wanting to still please Mother and have her smile coldly at her, giving her the slightest impression that she’s proud. She doesn’t need help because needing it would mean all of this and more is true, it makes things like _abuse_ , and _violence_ concrete ideas in her mind. 

She’s gasping for breath, huddled at the bottom of the stairs and if Regina were a person who dawdled in metaphors and poetry, she’d say that it was a testament to how far she’d fallen, being at the very bottom. 

As it turns out, she isn’t a person who looks for answers in poetry so she wipes her dripping cheeks and takes one two three steadying breaths until she feels like she can stand. She doesn’t though, just replays the image of Emma’s face turning cold and weary, breaking into hate and hurt when she mentions mothers. She replays _twenty-seven mothers_ and _you don’t have to keep acting like you’re alone_ until she feels her chest shrivel in guilt. 

Maybe receiving help _isn’t_ the worst thing that could happen. It pains her to think it, Regina Mills, daughter of the prestigious and accredited Cora Mills being brought down by something as trivial as _abuse_.

(She knows it isn’t trivial, knows it makes her head bang against shower walls and makes her cry out in her sleep, but she’s taking baby steps.)

And it isn’t as if here, in the bottom of a dingy stair case with dust stinging her eyes, she's Regina Mills. Here she’s just a skinny brunette who likes living in a cramped apartment with a baby and a lovely blonde, who might actually know what she’s talking about.

Regina sighs as she comes to this conclusion, her guilty mind only cringing more.

It’s not that Emma was wrong in helping, just awfully presumptuous of her, especially considering how proud Regina is. 

She’s still mad, considerably so because she doesn’t know what _I have Henry to think about!_ means and she’d rather just talk to Emma without screaming and insulting her. She knows she talked out of turn, she knows she shouldn’t have said the things she did and although it’s understandable, (she’s hoping Emma will understand, will serve her hot chocolate and let her apologize, tell her it was her anxiety talking) the hurt she inflicted still isn’t excusable. 

She dries her face with more purpose now. She doesn’t know how long she’s been drooling snot on the apartment stairs but she hopes that Emma is still where she left her (and if she’s being honest, she’s hoping Emma will stay there for a very long time, her soft eyes smiling at her like she’s not twisted and perfectly ruined by cold mothers.)

With one last shuddering breath, Regina stands and makes her way back to a batman socked Emma. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, let me know what you think!!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i seriously don't even know how to write happy things anymore, but here's a short chapter!

Regina climbs the stairs with hollow legs. 

 

Lets her feet stumble as she grows the courage to apologize. 

 

She’s gotten rather good at apologizing, for breathing, for bruising easily, for being a shade too dark in the summer, that she feels like this shouldn’t make her palms sweat and her heart shatter with every beat.

 

Except she’s always apologized for the wrong things, always with the intent to please that she doesn’t know how to _stop_ apologizing, knows that if she goes into the apartment, she’ll beg to be forgiven.

 

_*_

 

_They had a maid._

 

_Rosa, like Daddy called her, rolling the ‘r’ as she grinned up at him, or Rose, like Mother called her, her tongue never touching the roof of her mouth._

 

_She came in every Tuesday at twelve and left at five, which gave Regina a full hour after school to make a friend who didn’t question why she flinched and cowered when a hand was moved too quickly._

 

_She was the daughter of their previous maid, not even twenty and Regina found that she had a new appreciation for long hair and cinched waists, pink lips and easy grins. She’d lean against the table as Rosa talked to her in low tones, mesmerized as her hands dipped in water, coming out wet and sparkling._

 

_It was thrilling, having this little secret tucked at the very back of her heart, until Mother came home too early, too silently, and caught Regina with glazed eyes as Rosa laughed, her head thrown back showing a wide expanse of skin._

 

_Her eyes dipped, she knew they dipped when Mother smacked her hand on the table, making Regina flinch and blush at the same time, fear replacing the slight twinkle her eyes had._

 

_Rosa never came back after that, and the week after, Mother dropped a pamphlet on her bed._

 

_She’s sixteen, and has never prayed outside of the dark church Mother lets her attend with Daddy, so when she peers at the laminated paper, her brow furrows._

 

_“Mother?”_

 

_“I think it’s high time we took care of your little problem. The sooner the better.” Regina remains impassive because Mother’s hands are twitching erratically and Regina is determined to keep them off her face._

 

_“I thought religion was for dim-witted, poor people?” It’s the wrong thing to say because now there’s a hand wrapped around her arm, nails digging firmly into worn flesh. She knows this is about Rosa and how she made her bones thrum differently than before, knows she’s not allowed to ever feel that warmth again._

 

_“This fascination of yours_ _is_ _making you dim-witted. Think of everything you’re throwing away, darling.” The term or endearment is said with too much sugar and Mother is raising her eyebrows as if daring Regina to contradict her._

 

_Regina’s head lowers obediently, staring at the pamphlet. Opening it, she sees a white man in a suit walking across a stage, wide letters reading ‘God Made Them Male and Female.’_

 

_“Of course, Mother.” She barely whispers, her voice cracking and Mother grips at her chin, bruising, until Regina’s looking up at her. They stand like that until Regina’s teary eyes are dried and she’s found her voice._

 

_“Of course, Mother. I’m sorry.”_

 

_“Good girl.” One hand smoothes down her hair, tugging gently. “I’m only doing this for your own good, Regina. I trust you know that.”_

 

_“Yes, I’m sorry.”_

 

_She doesn’t know what she’s apologizing for, just wants Mother to leave before she witnesses Regina break and shatter, her bones missing the warmth of smooth skin and the sight of long hair swaying gently._

 

_Mother’s red lips lift just a fraction and without meaning to, Regina relaxes, because she’d apologize a million times over, let Mother bruise her ribcage and smother her heart if it meant she smiled with pride again._

 

_*_

 

It isn’t until she’s staring at the blue door that she realizes Emma never went after her, never demanded her to stay and wipe her tears. She knows it’s ridiculous but a wave of gratefulness rushes through her because Emma isn’t demanding or manipulative. She’s _free_ here.

 

Steeling her nerves, she repeats one phrase through her mind before opening the door.

 

_Emma isn’t Mother._

 

(Emma isn’t cages, Emma is freedom and care and warm eyes.)

 

She twists the worn knob and enters the apartment, letting the low light warm her chest, the scent of baby lotion settle her mind before going into the living room, knowing Emma will be there curled up.

 

Sure enough, Emma’s crammed into a corner of the old couch, Henry sitting on her lap as she rubs her eyes and flips through a comic book. The T.V. is on low, with little Henry engrossed in the cartoons and bright colors.

 

“Hi.” Regina’s voice cracks and sounds too loud in the calm apartment, making her want to retreat into herself but she straightens her back and almost tip-toes to the couch until she remembers that Emma isn’t Mother, Emma is loud and Regina can make as much disturbance as she can here.

 

Emma’s back stiffens but she doesn’t raise her head, just flips the page a little angrily and ignores her.

 

Regina almost lets out a bark of laughter as she realizes how relieved she is that Emma is _ignoring_ her, choosing such a childish method to resolve issues instead of bruises and warm blood. 

 

She sits gingerly next to Emma, facing the T.V. for a couple of minutes, Emma pointedly not looking at her. Henry notices her after a while, his chubby fists reaching out for her in excitement. She bites her lip because Emma is possessive when she’s angry, and sure enough her hand snakes around’s Henry’s stomach until the boy is mesmerized by the T.V. again.

 

Sighing, Regina turns her body to Emma, drawing her knees up on the couch, her toes wiggling against Emma’s jean clad thighs. She takes one deep breath, then another and she’s about to speak, blurt something idiotic like ‘ _what are you reading_ ’ when she notices Emma’s eyes are red and splotchy.

 

Her stomach knots because she can picture Emma crying alone in the apartment, probably scaring Henry and trying to soothe him as she tries not to sob in front of him. For the first time, Regina realizes that Emma is _young_ , just as young as she is and probably too mature for her age. 

 

She’s curled up on the couch ignoring Regina, wearing batman socks, reading a comic book, all indicators that for all intents and purposes, Emma is still a teenager. With a pang, Regina realizes that _she’s_ a teenager, fresh out of high school and struggling with the hard fact that she no longer has a mother and her father is god knows where not looking for her.

 

They’re two lost girls, begging for scraps of help and comfort in a world that made them grow up too much, too fast.

 

“We don’t have any mothers.” It’s barely a whisper, but Emma hears it because she’s suddenly blinking too hard and gripping the book too tightly. Regina wraps her arms around her knees and tucks her toes underneath Emma’s thigh, the only contact they’ve really had. 

 

“Does it- does it make me an orphan if my mother’s still alive?” She doesn’t mean to ask it, she means to apologize and not make this about herself but her ears are ringing because there’s something itching and clawing at her chest, loud and fearsome; Regina thinks she’s about to float away with the pain of it.

 

Emma laughs, one desperate bark of laughter that sounds more hysterical than anything else and she tosses the comic book aside.

 

“At least you can use the ‘orphan card’ card now.” Her voice is biting, but there’s an underlying layer of hurt and pain that makes Regina flinch. 

 

“I’m so sorry, Emma.” She can’t bring herself to speak above a whisper, making her voice weak and dry, just as she’s feeling right now. “I don’t think you’re a bad mother. I was angry and I felt cornered so I- I tried deflecting by hurting you. It was _wrong_.”

 

Emma lowers Henry to the blanket by her feet but doesn’t speak, doesn’t meet her eyes.

 

“I think you’re a great mom, actually and Henry’s very lucky because there isn’t enough good mother’s for the amount of children there are.” She’s rambling now but she needs to make sure that Emma knows she’s good, until that little sliver of fear and panic leaves her eyes whenever Henry’s crying and she doesn’t know what to do. 

 

“You’re- you’re _good_ , Emma and I’m-“ She wants to say that she’s so very glad that she’s found her but the words get stuck on her throat, making her choke. Emma’s rubbing angrily at her face now, almost clawing at her moist cheeks, trying in vain to appear tough. 

 

“I’m _sorry_.” She ends fervently, trying to convey just how much it hurts that Emma’s taking shuddering breaths, the air whistling past her teeth as she tries not to cry.

 

And then the greatest thing happens, Emma looks up through damp lashes, the green irises shining brightly against her red rimmed eyes, opening her mouth to say something that makes Regina think of mother’s who are never wrong and are always hurting her.

 

“I’m sorry, too.” She shifts in her seat and turns until her knees are pressed tightly against Regina’s and she’s smiling so sheepishly that that thing that was itching and ringing and clawing stops abruptly, making her breathing easier. “I shouldn’t have pushed you.”

 

Regina’s mesmerized because, is this how it’s supposed to go, taking turns apologizing and not begging for forgiveness, having gentle conversations while pressed against each other?

 

Emma runs a hand through her hair, suddenly agitated. 

 

“I just- I want to help you, and not because I think you’re weak because _god_ , Regina you're the strongest person I know, but because I think you don’t have to go through it completely alone, you know?”

 

Regina doesn’t actually know because alone is something she’s very acquainted with until she forced herself in Emma’s little family, but she nods anyways, hugs herself tighter. 

 

“I mean it, you’re not weak. That’s the furthest thing you are, like- maybe a pain in my ass, but not a _weak_ pain in my ass.” Emma’s watery eyes meet her brightly and Regina knows it’s crass and she knows she was just insulted, but she laughs anyways, watching as Emma’s face splits into something pleased and pretty.

 

“Thank you.” It’s really what she needs to hear, but she still has some reservations. “What did you mean when you- when you said that you had Henry to think about?” She doesn’t look at Emma then, opting to stare at the fascinating stitches on her jeans. 

 

“ _Regina,_ ” Emma reaches out and lays a hand on her arm, her skin flushed and warm. “I didn’t mean that you’re a danger, just that I’m like, a mom now, right? And I have to think about things like, what happens when you have a flashback and you’re alone with him, you know? I have you and him to think about and I don’t want you think that I don’t want you around him because you’re dangerous, I just-“ 

 

Emma tugs at the end of her hair and sighs deeply. Truthfully, Regina didn’t understand anything other than she’s not dangerous, but she needs a little more reassurance.

 

“I wouldn’t do anything to hurt him.” Emma’s eyes snap to hers, her hand still laying comfortably on her arm.

 

“Of course you wouldn’t! But you hurt yourself without meaning to the other day, and what if it happens again and Henry’s around and then you don’t trust yourself because _you_ think you’ll hurt him?”

 

And then it clicks to Regina that Emma’s not only worried about Henry, she’s also worried about how Regina would react if she ever accidentally hurt him. She's worried about her, ands tries to fight it, she really does, but there’s a warmth that slides all the way down to her toes that makes her look at Emma with bright honest eyes. 

 

“Okay.” And just like that, Regina’s exhausted, and all she wants is to curl up with Emma and maybe say she’s sorry again, until they’re both whole and light and _okay_.

 

“Look, Regina. I’m not going to send you to like, therapy without your consent, or anything like that, but maybe you could let me help you? I’m here to listen, okay? Please let me.” There’s a desperation to Emma’s words and she finds it odd, how she suddenly wants to tell the blonde everything.

 

“I miss her.” 

 

She means to say, ‘yes, thank you, maybe another time’ but her voice croaks it out and maybe it’s the way Emma’s rubbing circles on her forearm, or the way her eyes are understanding and not pitying, or maybe Regina’s just finally lost her mind, because she continues, her voice catching at every other word.

 

“I miss her _so_ much. And I shouldn’t, considering all the damage she’s done and, and- _Emma I think I shouldn’t love her_.” She rushes through the end, a fevered whisper as she clings to her knees. She knows she’ll regret this soon enough but now that she’s started, she can’t stop spilling her secrets. “I was so grateful sometimes, when she’d do things to me because I thought that’s how she loved, I thought that’s what _love_ was but- but-“ 

 

Regina’s crying, the words getting caught in desperate sobs and she clings to Emma’s hands now, holding desperately.

 

“Regina-“

 

“Because that’s what Mother’s _do_ , right? It means she loved me enough to break me, right? Mother’s are supposed to love you, _right?_ ” 

 

She doesn’t know if Emma answers or not, she’s just vaguely aware that there’s suddenly a warm presence around her, smelling like summer or oranges, enveloping her in strong arms, until Regina’s shaking and crying and sobbing, letting tears spill freely as she aches for a mother’s love she realizes she never truly had.

 

Emma’s whispering in her ear, but Regina only catches phrases here and there, ‘darling girl’, ‘i missed him too’ and when Regina quiets down enough to grip and burrow in Emma’s hold, she realizes that they’re both curled in one corner, gripping each other. Her mind is heavy and she knows they both have work in a couple of hours but she feels herself slipping, her eyelids fluttering.

 

Regina thinks it might be because she’s exhausted and that Emma’s presence is muddling with her thoughts, but she can’t help thinking of two lonely girls and how maybe, she might have found home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading, let me know what you think!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter kinda got away with me?? i don't know how it's longer than the rest of them but i just had to alternate between fluff and angst. anyways, i hope you like it!

_She’s seven when not one of her friends show up to her birthday party._

 

_There’s a purple cake staked high in the middle of a table. Neat ribbons dangle gracelessly around the table, its festive curls making Regina sick to her stomach. She kicks at the floor, white dainty shoes scraping against harsh wood, squeaking._

 

_“Enana, tal vez no pudieron venir,” Daddy tucks a strand behind her ear, but her little heart is heavy with the amount of people in the room._

 

_“They said they weren’t allowed.” She shrugs because Daddy’s brown eyes are too warm and she wants to act strong like Momma tells her to._

 

_“Did they say why?” His slight accent makes her pause, he usually only speaks to her in his native language when she’s upset._

 

_“No.” She shrugs again and wraps her arms around herself. “They asked if Momma was gonna be here.”_

 

_Daddy sits very still next to her, his fists tight against his knee and she’s about to ask what’s wrong, her nose scrunching up in confusion when the door opens._

 

_She’s too old to jump up and greet Momma, so she sits up and lays her palms against the frilly material of her lilac dress._

 

_Her heels echo loudly in the big house and with every step, Daddy’s fist clench tighter._

 

_“Darling,” Momma says, her red lipstick perfect and intact. She takes in the scene, discarded plates and purple napkins abandoned on the table as Regina sits next to Daddy on the piano seat._

 

_There are tear tracks that she forgot to wipe too late, and she hastily brings the back of her palm to wipe at her little cheek. Momma’s lips twist into something ugly and Regina quickly puts her palm flat against her thigh, her spine so stiff it’s begging to snap in half._

 

_“I thought you said you had friends.”_

 

_It’s eight in the evening, Elisa should be sitting next to her on the table, chattering and complimenting her princess curls Momma took care to style in an uncharacteristic show of affection. Sammy should be shoving cake into his mouth, wiping his hands on the napkins Regina so proudly chose, the color not too bright to be considered childish._

 

_Instead, her lower lip is quivering and she’s aching to reach out to her Momma, wrap herself in the folds of her dress shirt and smell her perfume. Except Momma doesn’t like hugging, or kissing, or much of anything, so she opens her mouth with as much grace as she can._

 

_“They couldn’t come, Mother.” There’s not a single waver in Regina’s voice and she’s very proud, but her spine is hurting and there’s a lot of pressure behind her eyes already._

 

_Momma purses her lips and walks to the table, inspecting it with distaste._

_“Well, now you know who your true friends are.” Momma smiles mischievously up at her, black eyes glinting._

 

_Regina nods, the pressure building in her thumping chest. “You and Daddy.” Her vision is blurry and she’s scrunching up her dress, ruining the pretty fabric._

 

_“Oh, child.” Momma laughs and the pressure slackens it’s hold on her heart. “I’m not your friend, I’m your_ _Mother._ _”_

 

_The pressure slams right back in, grasping at her heart and Regina lets a little sob pass her lips, but her back is straight and she isn’t crossing her legs._

 

_Momma looks mad, her eyebrows tight together and Regina is afraid of what she might do. She takes three big steps, her pantsuit making no noise as she stops directly in front of Regina._

 

_She smells sweet and pretty, and Regina just wants to launch herself at her and wrap her arms around her middle._

 

_“Darling,” Momma clucks her tongue, running a hand down Regina’s tear soaked cheeks, “my perfect darling.”_

 

_Momma’s large hands runs own her cheek and push her curls behind her shoulder, her nails digging in for just a fraction of a second before they’re wrapping slowly against Regina._

 

_Regina’s spine slackens and she buries her face in Momma’s stomach, so very thankful. She doesn’t sob, but her shoulder shake and hiccup as she tries to remain strong, her arms wrapped tightly against her Momma._

 

_There’s no forgotten presents or absent friends, no small bruise at the base of her neck from Momma’s hands or sagging cake; there’s only Momma’s sweet perfume and how soft she feels against her belly, one of her buttons pressing against the corner of Regina’s eye._

 

_She forgets about how she dressed up so nicely and how Daddy matched his tie with her dress. For a brief moment, Regina only knows that she feels small and protected in her Momma’s arms, even if she sometimes hurts her badly and says cutting words._

 

_It’s perfect and lovely and for those five slow seconds, Regina feels her Momma’s love._

 

_At the sixth second (even as a child, Regina learns to count her blessings) Momma’s pushing against Regina’s shoulders and straightening out her shirt._

 

_“Enough of this, Regina.” With one last caress against Regina’s cheek, Momma turns and leaves. “Clean this up, darlings.” She throws over her shoulder and instantly Regina straightens out and starts standing up._

 

_Daddy (was he here the whole time?) latches on to her wrist and makes her sit._

 

_“Amor mio, what do you need from me?”_

 

_Her lip is still quivering and she misses the sweet perfume and the crinkled shirt, but Momma says she’s too old to cry and sit around moping, so she shakes her head and wipes her tears._

 

_“Nada, Papi. I’m alright now.” She kisses his cheek but stands up, breathing in shakily as she starts gathering napkins._

 

_*_

 

Not for the first time, Regina wakes up in their tiny apartment, having just cried herself to sleep. The only difference this time, after waking from a sort of memory dream, is that a certain blonde is running the pads of her fingers over her temple, applying slight pressure. 

 

It feels warm and safe, hidden behind blonde hair and smelling the comforting scent that comes with Emma’s worn hoodie. She’s not quite awake yet, and Regina has half a mind to settle back against Emma and sleep for a couple more years until there’s miles and miles between her and Mother, but the blonde must notice that she’s stirring because her fingers stop their movement in a halted second, until they resume their work, smoothing out Regina’s curls.

 

“You okay?” Emma says from somewhere above her.

 

Regina groans and Emma chuckles lightly. She swears she feels chapped lips brush against her forehead for a second but the feeling is so fleeting she’s not sure she felt it.

 

“I’m- awake. At least.” Her legs are cramping from having them bent for so long, the two of them barely fitting into the tiny couch. She realizes she’s laying on top the blonde’s stomach, her hands tucked wrapped firmly around her middle.

 

She gingerly extracts herself from the blonde and she thinks it might be awkward, but Emma’s smile is splitting and wide it makes Regina dizzy.

 

“I didn’t know you were a snuggler.” Emma smirks and she’s sitting way too close, her knee pressed against Regina’s thigh.

 

“I most certainly am not!” the brunette sniffs, red tainting high on her cheeks.

 

“Uh- my sore sides sing another story.”

 

“That doesn’t even make sense.” She busies herself with arranging the various cushions laying around, still too close to Emma. 

 

“Are you- are you _blushing_?”

 

“Don’t be an idiot.” Regina fluffs the pillows with too much force, giving away her discomfort.

 

“Oh, my god,” Emma whispers dramatically, placing a hand over her heart.

 

“Miss Swan, there is no viable reason-“

 

“ _Miss Swan_?? Is that like a kink of yours, cause I could definitely-“ The rest of her sentence is cut off by a flying pillow, hitting her square in the mouth.

 

Regina takes this opportunity to flee, rising awkwardly from the low couch and scrambling to get away, almost tripping near an entranced Henry in front of the T.V.

 

“Regina!” comes the indignant scream and the brunette laughs her way into the restroom, locking the door and pressing herself against it.

 

“We’re not _done_ with this conversation!!” 

 

Regina’s laugh dissolves into slight giggles, and the happy sound chases away any kind of somber cloud that remained from their argument.

 

*

Henry is crying when she comes out the bedroom, showered and dressed in the familiar uniform. His shrieks must be heard over the walls because there’s a persistent banging behind the T.V. where some couple is quite done hearing Henry cry.

 

“Shut that kid up!” comes muffled through the walls as Regina makes her way into the kitchen.

 

“I’m _trying_.” Emma grumbles and when she finally comes into view as Regina turns the corner, she’s holding a flaying Henry in one arm and trying to put water inside the pot. 

 

Emma’s eyes are still red from earlier, as are Regina’s if she’s being honest (no amount of make-up is going to hide the rawness) but there’s fresh tears there too, threatening to spill over if Henry doesn’t quite down soon. The blonde looks frantic, trying to balance Henry and avoid his flying fists all while trying to heat up his bottle. There’s a sharp sense of fear in Emma’s eyes and Regina rushes forward to help.

 

She startles when Regina places a hand over her arm, but she breathes a sigh of relief when she silently takes a crying Henry from her arms.

 

“ _¿Cariño mío, por que tormentas a tu mami?_ ” Regina mumbles, walking to the faded couch. 

 

She places a hand on the back of his little head, completely out of her element, but she holds on tighter when she remembers the desperation behind Emma’s eyes.

 

Henry is shrieking in her ear and the banging behind the T.V is getting louder, so she settles little Henry against her chest, his open mouth wet against her neck. He doesn’t have a full pamper and he’s eaten in the last three hours, so this little tantrum must have come from elsewhere, she thinks as his fists bunch up her shirt.

 

She tries running her hands over his back, rubbing circles in the hopes of calming him down but his tears are dampening her shirt now.

 

“ _I’m going!_ ” Emma yells as the banging becomes persistent, and Regina closes her eyes and clears her throat.

 

“I can’t calm you down as fast as your momma usually does but I’d like to try.” She whispers against his head, his scent enveloping her completely. “And I can’t sing very well so don’t laugh at me, little one.”

 

Henry only shrieks and writhes against her arms.

 

_“Los cochinitos ya están en la cama,”_ she starts low, her father’s language heavy on her tongue. _“Muchos besitos les dió su mamá y calientitos todos con pijama, dentro de un rato los tres roncarán.”_

 

Henry’s chest stops heaving so desperately but his crying is still echoing in the apartment. She lowers her head right next to his perfectly shaped ear and whispers the next line.

 

_“Uno soñaba que era rey y de momento quiso un pastel.”_ Regina rocks Henry against her chest, curling his legs under her arm until he’s settling completely against her. The lullaby lilts sweetly at the end of every sentence, and little Henry hiccups along when Regina’s voice rises higher. 

 

_“Su gran ministro hizo traer, quinientos pasteles nomás para él.”_ She stops singing when she feels Henry quiet down, his face nuzzling against her neck, the warm emitting from his tiny body making her feel light. 

 

The apartment is quiet now, the banging stopped two verses ago and Henry stopped crying when she started talking about _pasteles._ He’s breathing damply against her shirt and Regina feels like she could do this for some time, have his weight against her and have him tangle his fingers in her hair.

 

_“Otro soñaba que en el mar, en una lancha iba a remar mas de re-“_ Henry moves quickly then, flying from her chest and supporting himself on the arm around him. There’s tears adorning his eyelashes and his cheeks are as rosy as Emma’s in the morning, but he’s looking at her with wide eyes that make her heart flutter. “ _mas de repente al embarcar se cayó de la cama y se puso a llorar_.” 

 

Tiny dimples appear on each of his chubby cheeks as he smiles, and Regina takes his fists and sways him as she repeats the line, quickening her pace.

 

He giggles then and her heart takes flight inside her chest. There’s something about the harsh pronunciation of the words _repente_ and _embarcar_ that make Henry dissolve into a fit of giggles so Regina repeats the line over and over until they’re both laughing and dancing, Henry on top of her stomach and Regina curled up on the old couch.

 

She’s singing the line for the fifth time when she catches a flurry of blonde in the corner of her eye and she turns, stunned, to find Emma leaning against the doorway, bottle in hand.

 

She smiles tiredly at her, and Regina’s heart doesn’t so much as take flight but completely soar in her chest when she notices the slight sparkle in Emma’s eyes.

 

“I see you’ve calmed the little punk down.” The blonde walks over and sits on the floor, directly in front of her. 

 

“I thought maybe I could sing to him. I don’t know the songs you sing, and I’m sure he doesn’t understand what I’m saying but-“

 

Emma places a hand on her knee and smiles lopsidedly up at her, green eyes piercing through her.

 

“It’s really pretty.” Emma’s smile widens when Regina ducks her head. Henry looks from between the two of them, as if watching a tennis match, before he flies from Regina’s arms into Emma’s startled ones.

 

“Woah, hey.” Emma bumps her nose with his as he settles against her. “Hi,” she repeats, whispering and closing her eyes.

 

Emma looks tired, way more tired than she should be and Regina thinks it has something to do with how fearful she looks around Henry. She wants to say how happy Henry looks in her arms, how rosy his cheeks are when she strokes his back and how nobody can calm him down as fast as the blonde can but in that moment, the door bursts open, startling Regina.

 

“We got mo- _ney_!”

 

Emma and Regina blink up at a grinning Ruby, her hands gripping opposite ends of the doorway, leaning into the apartment.

 

Ruby waves a couple envelopes in her hand, strutting into the apartment and shutting the door.

 

“Sweet,” Emma says, laying on her stomach and making Henry hover above her. “Time to get you a new beanie, huh?” 

 

She speaks to him in an excited tone; Regina already knows that Emma is going to buy herself a matching hat to go with Henry’s.

 

“Here,” Ruby perches herself on the edge of the arrest, throwing an envelope at Regina’s lap. “Granny’s supposed to deposit it directly to a bank but neither of you,” she pauses to glare at a distracted Emma, “have a banking account.”

 

The envelope is slightly heavy, weighing down on Regina’s legs and she wants to go into the restroom and count the money carefully, relishing in how this is the beginning of a life she’s creating for herself. It’s her first paycheck, or money, after all but she doesn’t stand up. Ruby is leaning over her excitingly and Emma’s sat up, squirming her way to rest her head on Ruby’s dangling legs. 

 

“Well?” Emma prompts. “Open it!” 

 

Regina sticks her nail under the opening and slides the envelope open. 

 

It’s a little over four-hundred dollars, Ruby tells her as she skims through it and Regina’s heart soars because this money is hers, it cements something in her that sounds a lot like _independence_.

 

She smiles brightly down at it and waves the envelope around, gleeful at it’s weight.

 

“You need to save that up.” Emma’s smiling up at her, her head resting against Ruby’s legs with her cheek awkwardly pressed.

 

“All of it?” Regina frowns, already thinking of the money she owes Emma for rent.

 

“ _All_ of it.” Emma raises her eyebrows and looks at Regina pointedly. Her face brooks no argument so Regina settles against the couch and stares at the envelope.

 

Emma flops back to the floor, making Henry cry out in joy as she maneuvers him above her, pretending to fly. Ruby sighs happily and goes to sit next to Regina, the two brunettes squeezed together on the couch. If August were here, he’d have to take one of the three chairs from the kitchen to sit in the living room, or sit on the floor. 

 

With a slow-widening grin, Regina realizes she knows just how to pay Emma back.

 

 

*

 

Emma insists on buying a phone for Regina, and she dips into the savings, (four-hundred dollars!) and buys a cheap flip phone. 

 

So far, she has Emma on speed dial (she stole the phone and put her number under ‘emmalicious”) and the diner’s main extension. It feels like an accomplishment, buying a phone all on her own and coming home to take a picture of Henry and make it her wallpaper. She caught Emma’s maddening grin on one corner of the photograph and it’s all in all grainy and blurry but still, Regina couldn’t care less that her iPhone is sitting on her old bed, miles away.

 

She’s taken over cooking on Fridays because she grew tired of eating spaghetti every other day and she knows how to cook the handful of meals Daddy actually taught her. August shows up early those days, with a sheepish smile towards Emma because _her milanesas are really good, sorry, Ems._

 

The apartment feels like _home_ , with her toothbrush next to Emma’s and her shoes placed neatly by the door. It feels like a _good_ home, even if Emma groans when she tells her to clean the kitchen, even if Regina’s gotten into too many fights about who changed Henry’s diaper last, even if Emma slams the door when she tells her to take her _stupid comic books off the floor, I am trying to sweep here, Emma!_

 

There are things she’s become accustomed to, like the twinge of fear she feels when Emma rises her voice too loud, but she reminds herself that Emma only rises her voice when she pretends to sing, or when she gets into heated arguments with August about which dress the bride should wear on that ridiculous wedding show. She never yells too loud when they fight, and they do fight often, she merely grinds her teeth and stops her foot.

 

She no longer minds that Emma throws her meaningful looks when she’s had a rough day, merely accepts the hot drink she has ready and tells her little bits of hell, how her stitches have fallen off but how she can still see the scar, how she had a nightmare that night, and how she misses her mother’s perfume. It’s not much, but Emma, sweet Emma, only places her head on her hand and leans forward to listen.

 

The one thing she loves the most in that little cramped apartment, is how she can hear Henry babbling through every wall. His constant stream of _‘ma ma ma ma”_ has Emma widening her eyes every second or so, placing a hand on her cheek and piercing holes into Henry’s innocent eyes. She missed the first time Henry said mama, but she remembers Emma’s trembling hands as she told her what he said, how her eyes were just a little too swollen for Regina not to notice.

 

She’s begun teaching him Spanish, taking his babbling and forming it into words. _Manzana,_ she says, pointing at an apple, when he keeps repeating ‘ _ma’._

 

“Regina, stop teaching my kid Spanish, I don’t know what the hell he’s sayin’!” Emma yelled from the kitchen when Henry gleeful kept repeating _zana,_ pointing at the basket of fruit.

 

And so Regina begun teaching her the language, little by little.

 

“ _Pendeja_ ,” Emma whispers when she’s got a particularly tough client at the diner, and Regina swats her with the kitchen rags because that was not the intended purpose of the lessons.

 

Henry usually sits in his little chair, watching as Regina glides through the kitchen to make sure she hasn’t burned anything again, repeating phrases in Spanish. Emma, her tongue sticking through her lips as she dices garlic, frowns as she tries to memorize.

 

“Estoy obsesionada con super héroes.” 

 

Emma repeats it slowly, her r’s not quite rolling as Regina’s and smiles proudly when she gets through the sentence.

 

“What does that mean?” She’ll cock her head to the side and observe as Regina stirs.

 

“I’m obsessed with superheroes.” 

 

Henry laughs shrilly as Emma throws pieces of garlic at Regina’s laughing face.

 

It’s _safe,_ even if her phone chimes sometimes with an unread message that she won’t open, even if Emma notices that she tenses up when the phone makes a sound. She won’t look, just reassures Emma that it’s nothing, and it _is_ nothing, at least now.

 

Emma pretends not to notice and in turn Regina pretends not to notice how the blonde closes her eyes quickly when hugging Henry, how she catches glimpse of fear behind Emma’s eyes when she says goodbye to the boy or how she sometimes grows agitated when Henry doesn’t want to stay in her arms. 

 

They both pretend to be quite fine, and it’s _good_.

 

 

*

 

“Can you take the trash out? Emma’s gonna be pissed I didn’t do it earlier.”

 

August catches her attention as she’s making her way to the living room early one morning. Emma’s still not back from work and August is scrambling to complete the tasks he was supposed to do before she returned.

 

 Leaning against the doorway, Regina stares at the curious sight of August elbow deep in soap water, his yellow gloves reflecting slightly in the dim kitchen light. He’s frowning down at a particularly tough stain and Regina’s lips quirk into an amused smiled as she stares pointedly at the gloves.

 

“What, I don’t like the food touching my hands!” He throws over his shoulder and before he can splash her with water, she walks out of the apartment laughing, swooping the trash bag by the door on her way out. 

 

She has to climb down the rickety set of stairs and shove the door open with a well placed shoulder, the cold air in the alley hitting her face hard. Opening the lid of the huge dumpster with hesitant fingers, she holds her breath and throws the bag in. 

 

“Regina?” 

 

The lid closes with a loud thud as Regina jumps back, a hand to her heart. She makes out a throaty chuckle as she curses at the familiar voice.

 

“What the hell are you doing out here, Emma!?” 

 

“Sorry, sorry!” Emma pushes herself off the opposite wall, lifting her palms out in a placating way. It’s still early enough that all Regina sees is a cloud of messy hair and something red and bright in one hand.

 

“Are you- _smoking_?” She doesn’t mean to squeak so high or to sound so concerned.

 

“Uh- yeah. First one in a while. You smoke?” The red light lowers significantly as Regina plants her hands on her hips.

 

“No. Hard habit to quit?”

 

“Oh.” Emma drops the cigarette and stomps on it with the heel of her shoe. “Not much of a habit if I don’t do it often.”

 

Emma’s shoulders move a little, the fabric of her jacket making a slight noise as she shrugs. Regina can tell there’s more to the story, but she can’t see Emma’s face very well in the morning air, so she crosses her arms and steps closer.

 

“Why are you smoking now, then? And poorly at that.” Regina points to the barely used cigarette discarded on the floor. 

 

“Oh, if you don’t smoke I don’t want you inhaling all that stuff.” Emma’s heel hits the brick wall in a nervous matter before she continues. “And I don’t know. I had a crappy shift. Missed Henry.” 

 

There’s something odd about the way Emma’s voice cracks almost imperceptibly at the end and Regina tries in vain to look at her face, the alley finally lightening a little.

 

“If you miss Henry, why are you here smoking instead of upstairs?” Regina frowns at Emma, trying to make sense of the blonde’s shifty behavior.

 

Emma laughs, suddenly and loudly, one short bark until she falls silent again. The morning sun is finally creeping up, painting a triangle against a corner of the building.

 

“That’s a good question,” she finally says and Regina hugs her arms tighter around herself, the cold making it’s way underneath her shirt.

 

Sometimes Emma stares at Henry a little too long with an odd look on her face. It’s warm and loving, but there’s something wild and scared behind the care, something that makes Henry blink patiently up at her until Emma smiles, the tense lines around her eyes disappearing. 

 

Other times, Emma stares a little too sharply at the leaking faucet and the dusty corners, glaring at them as she drums her fingers on her thigh, restless. She finds Emma inspecting the doorknob at random times, as if she’s worried it won’t hold against somebody trying to break in. 

 

She’s afraid of something, Regina can see it in the way her eyes dim when Henry can’t be soothed for hours, when he crawls too close to electrical outlet and it’s August who picks him up, scolding him gently.

 

Emma’s afraid of something and Regina can’t figure what that something is.

 

“Emma?” Regina steps forward tentatively. The sun is chasing them now and it’s catching on Emma’s loose strands, making it seem like she’s glowing from the inside. 

 

The blonde sighs and takes something out from her pocket, holding it tight in her hand. Regina frowns and looks down, finding a red apple and a pocket knife. 

 

“I almost gave him up.” Emma cuts a slice off, her breath swirling white in between them as the sun rises higher. She hands the slice to Regina, their cold fingers brushing delicately before Emma lets go.

 

“Henry?” Regina pictures a wobbling Emma stretching a hand down her stomach as she talks to Henry and she can’t see it, can’t see the blonde giving up her the one person that’s hers.

 

“Yeah.” Emma places a slice in her mouth, scraping the apple from the blade. “I um- had him in jail.” 

 

She can see Emma’s face now, her pale eyelashes lowered, not meeting her eyes. Regina blinks back, surprised and cold. 

 

The image in her mind shifts and Emma’s wearing orange, laying in a cot as she runs a hand through her swollen belly, alone and scared. But still, she can’t see it, can’t see her giving Henry anything else than her time and love.

 

“Okay.”

 

Emma’s eyes snap to hers quickly, stopping mid chew to stare at Regina. She takes another slice from Emma’s palm, her fingers lingering on her frozen skin for a second. 

 

The air smells sweet; the last remnants of the cigarette being chased away by apple and Emma’s fresh scent. She looks- Regina looks for a word in her brain as she places the slice in her mouth, scrambles for an adjective before settling on _something._

 

She looks _something_ \- with her scarf wrapped tightly up to her chin, her blonde hair a soft cloud around her face, light and glowing as the sun settles on it gracefully, her eyes wide and green. There’s a pretty pink high on her cheekbones, dusty and alluring, but she mostly looks _something_ because her lips are the same color, cracked and chipped but opened in wonder.

 

Regina smells apples and whatever fruity spray Emma stole from her bag today- oranges- and wants to take another step closer closer closer.

 

Green eyes break contact with hers and flicker down, zeroes in for a second before Emma’s mouth stretches into a smile, wide and happy. There’s a little juice slipping past a corner of her lip and Regina laughs at how _bright_ Emma is, how wonderfully dorky she looks. 

 

Emma wipes at there mouth with her scarf, laughing along until they’re both breathing in synch, their breath noticeable in the cold morning air. Henry must barely be waking, his little eyes blinking heavily as his mouth makes a perfect ‘o’, wet lips searching for something to eat. 

 

Emma is still looking at her with her wonder and fear in her eyes, so Regina takes a deep breath to calm her fluttering heart. 

 

“But you didn’t,” Regina almost whispers once she realizes the moment has shattered. 

 

“Huh?” 

 

“You didn’t give him up. You kept him.” She looks straight at Emma’s shifty eyes.

 

“Yeah, but-,”he takes a deep breath, finally looking Regina in the eye. “Okay, what if I hadn’t? What if he got adopted by someone who isn’t living below minimum wage and gives him lots of toys? What if he had a real home, like a _big_ house?” 

 

“We’re pulling through, aren’t we?”

 

“Yeah, I guess. But what if- what if _I’m_ not. What if he’s better off with someone else as a parent? I don’t- he’s my son, he’s my baby boy and I don’t want to leave him but what if I’m not giving him his best chance?” 

 

A surge of anger rises in Regina’s chest and she rushes forward, grasping Emma’s hands in hers. They’re sticky with apple and numbingly cold, but Regina holds tight.

 

“You’re giving him what _you_ can give. You’re handing him _your_ best chance.” Regina says.

 

Emma, startled enough by the ferocity in Regina’s grip, only looks at her with wide eyes before she remembers her argument.

 

“Yeah, but my best chance is a crappy apartment that’s unsafe! That’s no place for a kid to live in! And, my god, I’m a kid raising a kid!”

 

Emma’s chest is heaving a little, the thick scarf rising up and down as she grips Regina’s palm in hers. Regina looks up at her, she’s wearing one of Emma’s slippers and is significantly shorter than the blonde, and huffs out an exasperated sigh. She’s about to speak but then blonde holds tighter and opens her mouth.

 

“What if I’m not enough for Henry, and somebody out there _is_?”

 

And it dawns on Regina with startling speed that Emma’s never seen herself as enough, not by any means and not by any indication. She’s always been the child that’s discarded, where people saw her skinned knees and turned a blind eye. A white-hot rage builds slowly in Regina’s chest until it licks its way up her throat, setting her tongue on fire as she opens her mouth with purpose.

 

“You’re right. You’re living in a pretty bad apartment that’s not completely safe for a baby and you don’t make enough money to move out or buy the expensive kind of formula. You barely sleep because you’re bending yourself backwards trying to give Henry a place to live, and even then it’s not _enough_.” 

 

Emma flinches, her hands tugging at Regina’s desperately but she takes a step forward and breathes the same air as Emma.

 

“And maybe somebody gives him a big house, like the one I had, and maybe he gets to play with new toys, but maybe they don’t give him the the type of love that you can give him. And that love is pure and fierce and everything we both wanted, isn’t it?”

 

Emma blinks up at her, her eyes still wide and teary-eyed.

 

“It’s no selfish-“ Emma flinches and Regina knows that this is what she was afraid of, to keep Henry out of her love and care when there might be a possibility that he’d have a better life somewhere else. “It’s not. It’s only selfish if you stop trying and you won’t. I know you won’t.”

 

Emma’s eyes dart to the side and Regina knows she's still not convinced. She doesn’t want to see Emma trembling as she holds Henry when she comes home from work, tired and cranky but so happy that her baby is home with her. 

 

Regina takes a deep breath and holds on to Emma’s hands tightly, knowing what she’s about to say is going to cut at all of Emma’s open wounds.

 

“Emma, what are the chances that a new-born baby gets adopted and stays with a _good_ family?” The blonde’s face goes expressionless, blank and cold and Regina runs a thumb over the back of her palm. “You’ve thought about this.”

 

At Emma’s sharp nod, Regina takes a tiny step forward, her slippers touching Emma’s boots.

 

“He has a good chance here. He has a good _family_ here. Wouldn’t you rather him have a good family than a good place to live?”

 

Emma blinks and her entire face shatters into a million expressions, until it settles on fear, abandonment, disappointment. 

 

“What if I run?” 

 

Her voice cracks and Regina forgets about the water that’s ruining her slippers and the red tint of Emma’s nose, the way both their hands are shaking in the cold. She wants to say _“I won’t let you”_ but Emma’s been running her whole life with nobody going after her, and although she’d never leave Henry, Regina knows the feeling might be too strong for somebody who has never had a family.

 

“We’ll run with you,” she whispers, her face open with honesty.

 

Regina nods with enthusiasm and Emma launches herself through the small space between their bodies. Her head burrows against Regina’s neck and the brunette can feel goosebumps rising down to her bellybutton from Emma’s hot breath against her skin. They’re clutching at each other’s back and Regina can feel the fear radiating off Emma.

 

_What if we never have enough money?_

 

_What if I can’t give him everything he needs?_

 

_Everything he wants?_

 

_What if it’s not enough, this love of mine?_

 

For a second, Regina _is_ scared because she doesn’t know how to raise a child, has barely lived with one for a month, and she doesn’t know how to pay for an apartment or cook very well, or pay taxes, pay for school, she barely knows what kind of diapers Henry needs. 

 

But she feels Emma’s cold hands flat against her thin jacket and suddenly it doesn’t feel so daunting, learning besides the blonde. They stay locked together for some time, until Regina can’t feel her face and Emma’s breath goes cold in the morning air, until Emma looks like she’s dressed like the sun with her bright hair; the sun finally high above them.

 

“Let’s go home, yeah?” Emma mumbles against her skin and Regina doesn’t shudder, she _doesn’t,_ just nods and slowly separates from a shivering blonde. Emma smiles at her, all shy lips and dimpled cheeks, her piercing shining brightly.

 

They go up the stairs together, Emma clambering loudly as she hurries to Henry and when she opens the door, August yelping while he finishes cleaning the dishes, she pauses right in front ofHenry’s bassinet and stares down, frozen.

 

Regina sidesteps her, stands right in front of Henry, who’s rubbing his eyes and yawning slightly, his mouth smacking open. 

 

“ _Mi principito_.” Regina coos, picking him up and facing Emma.

 

“My prince?” Emma frowns, her eyes on Henry’s little curled body.

 

“My little prince,” she corrects, handing the sleeping boy over until he’s curled against Emma’s chest and remains peaceful, even as Emma strokes his back with a shaking hands.

 

Emma whispers the words against his head, her accent halting the flow of the endearment, but as she lifts her eyes and smiles tentatively at Regina, her cheeks blooming with red, Regina thinks it’s the most beautiful thing she’s heard.

 

*

 

“Can you take table five for me?” Emma runs her tongue over her chapped lips, red and angry. Regina’s gaze lingers and Emma’s lips thin out, trying to soothed the raw skin.

 

“Regina?”

 

“Oh. Yes. I got it.” She turns around without another word and heads over to an elderly couple enjoying a late diner. 

 

“Thanks?” Emma calls out to her, confused at her behavior.

 

Regina shakes her head and tells herself to stop staring at Emma’s lip. At least today she has en excuse, the blonde had been complaining all afternoon that her lips had finally gone and betrayed her, cracking dry and red.

 

Focusing on the couple in front of her, she doesn’t notice Ruby arguing with Granny until she heads into the kitchen, placing the order.

 

“It’s just one night, Granny! We can switch shifts and, look!” Ruby yells when she notices Regina enter. “Look how tired she is! We _need_ a break!” Ruby bounces on the balls of her feet, practically squirming with excitement.

 

Regina glares at her and runs a finger under her eyes, making sure she didn’t smudge any make-up. Granny notices and frowns deeply, placing her hands on her hips.

 

“That may be so,” she starts, ignoring Regina’s mumbled _I’m right here, you know,_ “but I can’t just let three of my employees off in one night!”

 

Emma swings the door open then, whistling happily as she places a tray by the sink. She pauses when she notices Granny and Ruby glaring at each other, with Regina fumbling around, pretending not to listen.

 

“We can switch shifts with someone, like Marian or Ashley.” 

 

“You know Marian has night school and Ashley is about to burst open with that baby.” Granny shakes her head and goes to tend to the front.

 

“But, Granny!” Ruby whines, and Regina’s sure if they weren’t at the diner, Ruby would have stomped her foot.

 

“Listen here, Ruby Marie Lucas. Unless you find someone to cover _three_ shifts,” she holds three fingers close to Ruby’s face, “it’s a no. Understood?” She stomps out of the kitchen, ignoring Ruby’s growl. 

 

Ruby groans and leans despondently over the sink, sagging against it.

 

“What was that about, Rubes?” Emma has completely stopped all pretenses of eavesdropping, simply watching the scene unfold.

 

“I wanted to take a night off this Saturday.” 

 

“She sounded pissed though, busted out the middle name and everything.” Emma smiled widely at an unimpressed Ruby.

 

“Yeah, well- I wanted the three of us to take a day off. And, you know, you could have helped me out, Regina!”

 

Regina startles at that, even pointing a finger at herself in a questioning matter.

 

“No way. We overheard Granny saying she owns a crossbow and ‘isn’t afraid to use it’, right, Regina?” Emma interrupts, licking her lips, before she can say anything.

 

Regina nods with wide eyes, remembering Emma’s grip on her forearm when Granny told the story to a regular costumer.

 

“It’s stored in the back, whatever.” Ruby snorts and stomps out the kitchen, in much the same fashion as her grandmother. 

 

Emma whips around to look at Regina with wide eyes and mouths _‘in the back?’,_ but the food is placed on the bar at that moment and Regina looks through her pockets quickly before handing Emma a stick. 

 

“Here,” she says gruffly as Emma inspects the chapstick.

 

“Awe, are you worried about my lips?” She licks them once more and Regina simply rolls her eyes and leaves, hefting the tray on her shoulders.

 

“You wish.”

 

Ruby works some magic, or sells her soul to Granny for eternity because the next morning she barges into the apartment before either of them wake, Emma with her leg draped over Regina’s and Regina huddling all the covers.

 

“We got the day off!” The brunette throws herself on the bed, jumping between them until Emma shoves her over the edge.

 

“Go away!” Emma hollers, still in her skinny jeans and tank top, and buries herself into Regina’s pillow.

 

“I _said,”_ Ruby yanks the covers off the bed, exposing Regina to the cold apartment air, “we got the day off, the least you could do is cook me breakfast.”

 

She sees Emma flip Ruby the bird before rolling closer to Regina’s back, shivering.

 

“Awe, come on. We’re going to a carnival or bazaar, I don’t know what it’s called. This christian Mexican church is hosting it and they have free games. You’re _welcome_.”

 

“A _kermes_ ,” Regina mumbles, still fighting off sleep.

 

“Whatever,” Ruby shrugs and grins wickedly. “I hear there’s going to be a marrying booth.” She stares pointedly at Regina and the sleeping brunette throws her a pillow.

 

Ruby cackles her way to the kitchen and suddenly all she can feel and hear is Emma snoring slightly against her back.

 

“Emma,” she whispers and when the blonde doesn’t respond, she rolls over to face her.

 

Too closely, she realizes once her nose brushes against Emma’s. She’s so startled she jumps back, falling off the bed in a mess of tangled sheets and legs, blushing profusely. 

 

“Regina?” Emma’s head pops up, hair falling over her face in tangles and drool pooling at the corner of her mouth. 

 

“I’m fine,” she says, her heart still beating fast. She walks to the restroom, telling herself to be better, Mother’s words whispering across her mind, because this business of crushing on her roommate is not good for her heart.

 

She’s had a good week, not once relapsing into a weak puddle of anxiety and tears, but it hits her again, as it does unexpectedly, how much she misses Mother. She washes her face in the hopes of washing away how nice it felt to be held by her, but her mind betrays her and suddenly she’s seven again and Mother’s perfume is engulfing her senses. 

 

There’s a sharp tug at her heart and Regina knows she shouldn’t miss her, but she wants Mother’s arms around her, whispering how much of a good girl she could be.

 

*

 

Her phone chimes as Ruby is flipping pancakes, and Emma looks curiously at her as she ignores it, dread filling her stomach.

 

“What time does it start, Ruby? The _kermes_?” She asks instead of answering her phone, and she feels more than sees Emma drop her curious gaze from her.

 

“It starts around 2 but the _real_ fun begins at 8.” Ruby places a stack of pancakes at the table. “August is meeting us here, and then we’ll take your car, Ems? It’s like a forty minute ride from here.”

 

Emma nods as she smothers her breakfast with butter, the plastic knife digging into the hot bread. 

 

“You excited?” It’s directed to Henry, sitting in Emma’s lap but Regina answers in her head all the same.

 

She’s nervous for some reason, an outing that doesn’t include shopping or working, and she suddenly finds herself at loss for what to wear. 

 

Saturday comes too soon and too slow for Regina, and although she doesn’t know why she’s nervous (it’s _not_ Emma, or how nice she looks in her white sweater) she curls her hair and wears her nicest red sweater. 

 

Emma knocks on the doorway as she’s unpuggling the wand, her mouth hanging open as if she was about to talk.

 

“You look-“ she whistles, taking in Regina’s curls and the only pair of boots she owns. “Wow.”

 

Regina tries not to blush but Emma has that look on her face she had in the alley, where her hair shined and her lips were rosy.

 

“Thanks,” she mumbles and the two make their way to the front door where Ruby and August are already waiting.

 

“Oh, wait!” Emma runs back to the room and Regina shrugs at a puzzled Ruby.

 

“It’s kinda cold outside.” Emma says as she makes her way back, holding something grey in her hand. She stops immediately in front of Regina, close enough to see her freckles and before she questions why, Emma’s placing a beanie on her head. 

 

“There,” she smiles at her and steps back, admiring her work, “perfect.” 

 

“Can we _go_?” A smirking August whines and Regina walks out of the apartment in a warm haze.

 

Emma’s car turns out to be a beat up yellow eye-sore and Regina actually inspects it’s wheels as the blonde places Henry in the car seat, in the middle of the seat.

 

“Yellow?” She rises her eyebrows at Emma as she’s coming out from buckling Henry in.

 

“Like my hair,” she grins, winking at Regina. She tosses Ruby the keys and the four of them climb in, Regina and Emma on opposite ends of Henry, who’s wearing his little grey coat and red beanie.

 

Regina feels full as Ruby pulls out of the driveway, Henry babbling to himself and banging his fists on the seat. The car smells a little damp from being unused for some time, so Ruby lowers the windows, letting the cold air whip past them as they move forward.

 

The last of the sun’s rays are lowering behind buildings, but Regina can still feel it warming her heart. She leans her head against the door and sticks her hand out the car, letting her fingertips glow red as she watches them against the sun. 

 

Henry starts his constant stream of _mamamama_ and Regina turns to see Emma already staring at her. Her hair is being swept up by the wind and her eyes are so soft Regina almost looks away, but she smiles back and lets the wind hit her cheeks, admiring how nice they all seem to fit, with matching beanies and soft eyes.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading, let me know what you think! <3
> 
> also, the song regina sings can be roughly translated to this:
> 
> "The three little piglets are already in bed, many kisses their mother did give them; warm, all in pajamas, they soon started to snore.
> 
> One dreamed of being king when he suddenly wanted a cake. His great ministry he ordered to bring, five hundred cakes just for him.
> 
> Another dreamed that in the ocean, he’d row a little boat, when suddenly-


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter this time! mainly because I updated like three stories before this one...
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy, and thank you so much for all your kind words, they really mean a lot!
> 
> please let me know what you think!

 

She finds that she can’t stop staring at Emma, not with the way the sun catches in her golden hair, not when she falls asleep against the car seat, Henry’s hand wrapped tightly around her gloved finger. 

 

There’s something soothing about watching her two favorite people scrunch their nose in an identical manner, heads pressed together as they snore in synch. It makes her heart ache in a pleasant matter, like she’s about to burst with the happiness that stifles the musky car scent. 

 

Henry stirs a little, his mouth popping open and yawns before he searches blindly with his unoccupied hand, until he’s snatching Regina’s finger in his hands and holding tight tight tight. She blushes wildly because this move is so intimately beautiful and breathtakingly _natural_ that she doesn’t move for a full minute, relishing in the way his grip doesn’t slacken. 

 

She stares at them, snoring with their mouths open and she doesn’t know how much time passes before she feels eyes on her.

 

Tearing her eyes from them, she sees August smirking at her from his place in the passenger seat, twisted so he can face her fully. Rolling her eyes, more than a little embarrassed at being caught, she kicks the back of his seat with force.

 

The rest of the ride is spent evading August’s middle finger in her face, trying to poke her despite the frightening glower she’s sporting. She tries not to jostle Henry, his grip as strong as ever, and bites at the man-child’s finger, kicks his seat and, straining forward, shoves her own middle finger in his face.

 

“ _Children_ ,” Ruby scowls, “there are people sleeping.”

 

August tries to poke her one more time and this time she succeeds in biting him, her teeth barely scraping his skin.

 

“ _Ow_!” August yells and Regina laughs richly at her victory. He sits back down, rubbing dramatically at his finger.

 

“Are we there?” A groggy Emma asks, startling them.

 

“Nope, maybe ten more minutes.” Ruby answers, meeting her eyes in the rearview mirror.

 

The blonde sits up, rubs the sleep from her eyes and meets Regina’s eye, smiling pleasantly. Green eyes flicker to where Henry’s still latched on to the brunette’s finger and Emma’s smile widens. She doesn’t comment, but for the rest of the ride, there’s a permanent smile etched on her face. 

 

“We’re here!” Ruby yells a short while later, a small church coming into view from their right side. She turnsand tries to find parking close to the entrance. 

 

The blonde groans when August yells at her to wake up, her eyes closing shut in exhaustion and annoyance. Once parked, Regina unbuckles Henry gently, gathering him in her arms and gingerly stepping out of the car.

Emma remains inside, groaning and slumping over the door as Ruby yanks it open.

 

“Maybe she needs a good kiss to wake her up,” August bumps hips with her as she’s settling Henry against her shoulder. “Come here, Henry. Let Regina wake your mommy up.”

 

Henry turns his head and buries it against Regina’s neck, holding on to her tighter and August pouts as Regina tries not to laugh at him.

 

“I need a good night’s sleep, August but if you want a kiss…” Emma’s climbing out of the car with groggy eyes, but when she spots them, her smile curls into a grin.

 

“No, _no_ , I said-“ but Emma lunges at him, smothering him with wet kisses until she jumps on his back, laughing madly as he screams in mock horror. 

 

Henry wakes up after that, watching with glee as they both almost topple over, until Ruby’s helping Emma and August ends up sprawled on the floor.

 

“Evil,” August mumbles, wiping dirt from his jeans.

 

Henry spots Emma walking to them and, in his usual fashion, flings his entire little body into her arms, knowing she’ll catch him.

 

“Hey, little man. Ready to kick Regina’s butt in every game?” She holds her palm up and Henry smacks his own against her.

 

Emma winks at her, eyes glittering playfully and she walks towards the church, Regina following quickly after, spewing indignities. 

 

The church is lit up beautifully, Christmas lights still adorning every side of the building and Regina genuflects out of habit, her fingers deftly blessing herself. Henry notices and tries doing the same, ends up circling his face with a tiny finger.

 

She makes faces at him until they find themselves behind the church, loud music and people shouting gleefully taking up every once of her scents. 

 

She watches from the corner of her eye as Emma’s eyes go wide, the kermes’ lights illuminating her excited face. There’s food lined up on side of the kermes, people lining up for _gorditas, enchiladas, elotes,_ and Emma’s eyes keep growing wider at the sight.

 

Ruby and August have disappeared, no doubt to buy food, and she takes in the rest of the scene, a large canopy resting in the middle of the chaos where people are sitting down to eat _raspas_ , some even licking _mangoneadas_. Emma eyes these sweet treats with envy, but she turns to Regina and smiles widely,

 

“Games first!”

 

She takes her cold hand and drags her to a booth in the entrance where an elderly lady is selling tickets. Ruby and August are already in line, their breaths white while they wait in the cold.

 

Once saddled with enough tickets to buy the entire church, the long strand wrapped around Emma’s arm, they make their way to the games, dozens of hand made games lining up next to each other, teddy bears, guns, dolls, and all kinds of prizes hung up.

 

Henry jumps to Regina’s arms, laughing shrilly in her ear as she barely catches him, and settles a hand on his back. 

 

“I hear wedding bells,” Ruby sing songs in her ear, pointing to a booth in the corner where women are wearing tiny veils on the back of their heads, some opting to wear the bow tie, while their partners read off a paper, giggling and holding hands. Her ears glow red and Ruby snickers.

 

“Oh, shut up.” Regina adjusts the beanie on her head and stands besides Emma, Henry squirming in her arms excitingly as he spots the toys.

 

They stop in front of a booth with a large box tilted up. It has holes placed strategically on it, and the young boy behind the booth hands Emma five marbles and tells her she’s got to place three of them in to win a prize.

 

“What do you want me to win, hm? Maybe that Super-Man?” Emma pokes Henry’s dimples and his smile grows wider. “Nah, you’re more of a Batman guy, huh?” Henry claps and Emma laughs, moving to crouch in front of the box.

 

“Are you sure you can aim right?” Regina questions, standing close to Emma’s shoulders.

 

The blonde scoffs and glares at her playfully. “ _Duh._ I’m like, a master at these things. Watch this, Regina!” 

 

The first two go in without a hitch and Regina’s booing loudly next to the blonde, cupping her hands around her mouth and teaching Henry to do the same. It makes Emma grin despite her _invaluable_ support, a wild smile placed tight on her face as she focuses, nearly laughing.

 

The next one falls off the box entirely, and Regina throws her head back and _cackles_ , Henry watching her with wide, surprised eyes before he’s laughing with her.

 

Emma ends up winning anyways and, smiling coyly at Regina, tells her she should pick something from the prize wall. She’s glad Ruby and August have disappeared because she’s sporting a furious blush despite it being extremely cold.

 

She chooses a stuffed rose, long and red and the boy hands it to Emma, matching her wide grin. 

 

She turns then, eyes twinkling as she offers it to Regina, her gloved fingers brushing against Regina’s cold ones. 

 

“My queen,” Emma laughs as Regina takes the rose.

 

“Hmmm,” she pretends to smell it, making Emma smile even more, “my hero.” She finishes begrudgingly and allows Emma to drag her to the next game, a mini soccer game booth.

 

She wins, of course, and this time she hands Henry a stuffed Batman, her little prince shouting with joy and hitting her with his new toy as he plays with it. 

 

Ruby comes by with food and the five of them sit on the curb, sitting closely and listening to the music as they trade food. There’s enough for everybody, but after a couple of bites, August gives Emma his _enchiladas_ , and the blonde hands Ruby her _elotes_ , the brunette happily giving August her hot dog. 

 

Regina, thankfully, keeps her _gorditas_ for a while until Emma snatches them and steals one, before she pats her knee in apology and continues chewing. They eat until the cold seeps into their pants, sipping lemonade and hot chocolate that tastes a little like home, and when the band starts playing something with guitars and drums, they move to the next game.

 

“It’s called bachata,” Regina whispers into Henry’s ear, enjoying the sway of the music. She moves around, dances on the balls of her feet as he sways with her. 

 

The pocket of her coat vibrates all of a sudden and her movements become stilted as she crashes into Emma’s back.

 

“ _Woah_ , hey. Did you drink a piña colada?” Emma laughs merrily, undeterred when Regina glares at her. “Awe, come on.” She throws an arm over her shoulders, the three of them walking under the Christmas lights, wandering heedlessly and enjoying the music.

 

_Or the company,_ Regina thinks, her phone forgotten as she realizes she fits rather nicely under the blonde’s warm embrace. 

 

“So, what do you want me to win next?” The blonde asks smugly and Regina, thinking it’s time to knock her off her horse, looks around for a game she _knows_ Emma won’t conquer. 

 

Spotting the perfect game underneath a small canopy, Regina leads the way.

 

“Wha- _loteria_?” Emma reads off the large sign on a white table, turning wide eyes to the brunette. “You didn’t teach me this, cheater!” 

 

“It’s just like bingo.” Regina shrugs, smirking.

 

“Uh, _no_. It’s like _witchcraft_ bingo, it has beans and I bet people even chant in Spanish.”

 

Regina tries her hardest not to roll her eyes at the blonde’s whining, but her description comes very close to the game they’re about to play. She tears four tickets from Emma’s arm and hands them to a smiling woman, long hair tumbling over her shoulder. 

 

“I’m sure you’ll keep up.”

 

Emma groans, tilting her head back and throwing her arms up in exasperation before the amused lady leads them to a table that’s quickly filling with people, the next round about to start.

 

They sit together, Henry sitting in Regina’s lap and bangs his fists on the table; she makes sure to drag the beans out of his reach.

 

There’s a table up front that has a million little prizes, small statues of the Virgin Mary in her green robes framing her face angelically, piggy banks and stuffed toys, a few kitchen appliances. Emma gulps next to her when the entire table fills up and Regina pats her hand in mock reassurance. 

 

The cards are passed around and Emma tries sounding out the words written at the bottom of each square, her brow furrowing adorably. Regina grins and turns her attention to Henry.

 

“We’re gonna win, aren’t we, darling?” 

 

The lady starts spewing names and objects, flicking the card of the image they’re supposed to cover with the bean.

 

“ _La sirenita_!”

 

The mermaid, her mind translates easily enough and she daintily picks up a bean and places it on top of the half-naked woman in the picture. 

 

“The- the what? A _fish_?” Emma sputters frantically, craning her neck to try and see the card the lady is waving around. 

 

“ _La cazuela_!”

 

“Is that underwear?!”

 

Regina stays silent, biting her cheek.

 

“Oh, it’s that little golden bowl.”

 

Regina hums and makes sure to cover Emma’s eyes when the next card is read.

 

“ _El negrito!_ ” 

 

“That sounds racist, what i- _hey_! Take your damn hand-“

 

“ _La calavera_!”

 

“ _Regina_!”

 

A laugh bubbles out of her chest, free and wild and she places the little bean on the appropriate spot; Emma stares at her, shocked and more than a little amused. 

 

The blonde looks over at Regina's card and tries filling in the one she sees have already been called, but Regina plucks Henry from her lap and deposits him in the table, right between them, obscuring Emma’s view.

 

“ _Las jarras!_ ”

 

Emma cranes her neck again but the lady is moving too fast. In a fit of panic, she starts putting beans in random squares, looking around in case somebody notices. 

 

“ _La mano!_ ”

 

“That’s _A HAND_!” Emma shouts, excited to have recognized a word. Regina tries very hard not laugh in her face as people around them glare at the blonde. 

 

Her card is almost full now, and she peeks around Henry to see Emma randomly filling more blank spaces with beans. 

 

“ _La chalupa!_ ”

 

“Is that like that one time when you called me _guapa_?” Emma asks honestly, looking at her card in confusion.

 

Regina’s cheeks heat up for the hundredth time, remembering the time the endearment slipped through her lips. Calling Emma beautiful is unforgivable, even if she hadn’t understood. 

 

“ _El_ _borracho_!”

 

Emma stands up now, waving at the lady to point the card their way. “Didn’t you call August that? Wait- does it mean a drunk-“

 

“ _Loteria_!” Regina shouts gleefully, her card finally full.

 

The people around her groan and clap at the same time. She high fives Henry’s wet hand, (why is his hand wet??) and smiles widely at Emma, her eyes crinkling as the blonde squints at her and pouts. 

 

“Pick a prize,” the lady smiles at her and takes the card she used, along with the beans. 

 

She looks at the prizes on the table and the ones hung around the canopy until her eyes land on a stuffed toy, large and red. 

 

Smiling coyly, she points to it and the lady hands it to her, retreating back for another round. Emma’s standing a little off from the canopy, holding Henry and trying to wipe whatever he got his hands on. She places the large prize behind her back and saunters to a pouting Emma. 

 

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” She says, tilting her head. 

 

“Don’t talk to me, cheater!” Emma grumbles good-naturadely, her pout bordering on dramatic now. 

 

“I didn’t cheat!” she plays along anyways, enjoying the way Emma’s batting her eyelashes at her pathetically. 

 

“Hm!” Emma turns to stomp away from her, Henry’s little face the only thing she can see from her shoulder. 

 

Regina chuckles and then, quickly so as to side step the blonde, pops in front of her, blocking her dramatic exit. She takes the prize from behind her back and presents it with flourish, her face open and excited. 

 

Emma’s eyes drop to the prize and her eyes widen, a a gasp actually comes out of her mouth. 

 

“No way!” she yells, five years old again and looking at her favorite villain. “Harley Quinn?!” Her voice rises to a higher pitch and Regina’s never been so glad to give anybody a gift before. 

 

Henry snatches it out of Regina’s hands and hugs it close to his body, the large stuffed figure of Harley Quinn in her red costume completely obscuring him from Regina. 

 

The two gush over the gift and Emma smiles at her so widely, her eyes close. 

 

Ruby and August decide to interrupt them then, coming by with even more food, one holding another hot dog, nachos and lemonade, and the other balancing cotton candy. Emma happily plucks one from August’s hands, picking at the soft treat and letting it stain her lips red. 

 

She offers some to Regina and she’s about to decline, a voice at the back of her head whisperin madly.

 

_Too much sugar and you’ll break out in pimples, dear. And those imperfections are_ **_unattractive_ ** _._

 

She was doing _so well_ , Mother staying far away during the day, only bothering her in her dreams and short panic attacks Emma doesn’t realize happen in the shower. 

 

Scowling, Regina reaches forward and lets Emma place the treat in her mouth, the candy quickly dissolving on her tongue. 

 

With Emma’s easy smile, Mother disappears from her mind and she focuses on what Ruby’s saying. 

 

“-short line, we should go now!” 

 

“Can we eat first?” Emma asks, reaching out to take the nachos and lemonade August is balancing. 

 

Shaking her head at Emma’s bottomless pit of a stomach, the five of them munch quietly as people begin to gather at the front of the live band, couples starting to dance with enthusiasm. 

 

Soon, Henry’s mouth is colored blue, his hands wet and sticky from the cotton candy and Regina wipes him up as best as she can, Emma licking her finger and smudging it over Henry’s blue cheeks. 

 

“Okay, okay, the kid’s clean enough. Let’s _go_ ,” August insists, and they make their way to one corner of the kermes, where people are lining up excitingly. 

 

“What are we doing again?” Regina whispers in Emma’s ear and she swears she feels the blonde shudder. 

 

“Oh, I guess I have to ask, huh?”

 

 She turns, her eyes bright and hands Henry to her. The boy jumps happily from their arms, used to the exchange. Placing both hands on Regina’s shoulders, she stares at her in mock seriousness. “Regina Mills, will you marry me?”

 

Ruby whoops behind them, and the line starts to pick up. At loss at what to say, and her heart beating wildly in her ears, Regina swats her hand on Emma’s arms and nods, chuckling at the way Emma turns and yells, “She said yes!” her arms spread wide and happy. 

 

The line moves quickly and she’s soon clipping a veil to her hair awkwardly, Henry still in her arms, and she smiles shyly at Emma when the blonde clips on another veil behind her hair, rejecting the bowtie the guy behind the booth tried handing her. 

 

A girl comes by and wraps a rosary around them, telling them to hold hands while the boy reads lines in Spanish and English, promising love and god’s blessing. Emma’s smiling with all her teeth, red from the cotton candy and Regina finds she can’t tone her grin down. 

 

They place rings on their fingers, cheap golden bands adorned with flowers, the ring fitting too big around her skinny finger. She adjusts it, the material digging into her skin. Her hands shake when she places Emma’s band around her ring finger and when the boy says, 

 

“You may kiss the bride,” she freezes for two seconds before she sees Emma’s eyes flicker down to her lips. 

 

Gathering her courage, she leans forwards and places the sweetest kiss on the corner of Emma’s willing mouth, smiling against her as she hears her sigh. Henry’s pressed between them and the air smells like cotton candy, his sticky fingers on her neck. There’s blonde hair and the smell of oranges, sugar, and not much else, until the world around her erupts with sound.

 

She’s brought back, the music ringing in her ears and Henry’s clapping jostling her out of her haze. 

 

They’re moved to the side all too quickly, Ruby and August happily taking their place and the three of them stand aside, watching distractedly. Regina rubs her hand on Henry’s back, trying to gather some warmth. Emma glances at her from the corner of her eyes, and takes her gloves off with her teeth. 

 

“Here,” she hands them shyly, “since we’re married and all.” 

 

There’s red tint high on her cheeks, and _honestly Regina_ , she chastises, _get it together_.

 

They clap accordingly for Ruby and August, the man-child placing a kiss on Ruby’s forehead and then hugging her tightly. Newly married, and smiling widely, they make their way to the large canopy, hearts full.

 

*

 

“This is supposed to be made out of mango, right Regina?” Emma licks the side of the cup where juice is spilling out.

 

She hums her agreement and Emma punches August, mumbling an “I told you,” loudly enough to make Regina smile. She’s about to turn from where she’s been staring at the couples dancing fast, _bachata, duranguenses_ and _regeton_ blaring loudly from the stage, when a lady behind her speaks.

 

“Could you pass me a napkin, dear?” 

 

She freezes, her mind numbing easily because she swears she recognizes that voice, knows it in the very marrow of her bones. She whirls around, looking wildly for the source of the deep timbre.. 

 

Behind her, an older woman she doesn’t recognize, wearing a white coat is cleaning a bit of juice spilled, a man beside her handing her a wad of napkins.

 

“Regina?” Emma’s face comes into focus, worried lines painted on her forehead, “are you alright?”

 

“Fine,” she smiles tightly, and disappears into the restroom. 

 

*

 

Head pressed against the bathroom stall, she breathes through her nose, in and out until she forgets the sound of Mother’s voice. It takes a couple of minutes, her nails digging through Emma’s gloves and through her pants, no doubt leaving marks on her skin as she tries to settle her heart. 

 

She was doing _so well_ , she growls, keeping Mother locked away in the darkest and dirtiest part of her heart, but there’s just something so sickeningly sweet about Mother’s timbre that has her _aching_ with loss, changing strangers voices to match hers.

 

As if on cue, her phone vibrates again, and she bangs her head against the rickety door, nearly bursting with dangerous energy. Three sets of breaths later, she decides Mother doesn’t really belong in her heart at all, and wipes the tears from her cheeks.

 

Her hands are shaking when she opens the bathroom stall but she rearranges her hair and reapplies her lipgloss, practices a smile and goes back out. 

 

*

 

Emma’s waiting where she left her, her nose red and cold and when she slips her hand into Regina’s gloved one, she doesn’t comment. 

 

They stare at people dancing, hair moving wildly. Her heart settles nicely, still and at rest at once when Emma squeezes her hand. She sees her, from the corner of her eye, alternating from watching the swaying crowd with awed interest and looking at her with worry. 

 

Ruby and August have disappeared with Henry again, no doubt to find more food, and Regina decides she’s had enough of Mother’s for the day and tugs at Emma’s hand. 

 

“Want to dance?” She asks shyly, startling Emma. 

 

“Uh-“

 

“It _is_ our wedding, after all.” She repeats Emma’s words and the blonde smiles brightly at her. 

 

“After you, wifey.”

 

She leads her to a corner of the make shift dance floor, where there aren't many people dancing with startling speed, and places one hand on Emma’s waist. 

 

“Where do I-“ The blonde waves her hand around, gesturing to Regina’s body. Chuckling, she snatches Emma’s right hand and places it on her shoulder, taking her left one and holding it up in a position to dance. Locked together, Regina begins moving her back and Emma, startled, trips on her feet.

 

“You have to dance on your toes,” she whispers, suddenly very close to the blonde, their chests almost brushing. 

 

“Like this?” Emma stands on her toes and repeats the two-step Regina showed her.

 

“Hmm,” Regina moves back, two steps, swaying her hips to the music, and then moves forward. Emma stumbles in her arms again and they’re suddenly nose to nose, their breaths mingling. 

 

They stay like that, Regina leading back and forth, daring to twirl Emma once, her bright hair hitting her straight across her face. She laughs freely, the blonde’s cheeks coloring, and for the rest of the three songs they dance, Regina makes sure to twirl her at every chance she gets, loving the way she laughs when she returns back to her arms. 

 

She feels her fake ring dig into her skin where she’s holding Emma’s waist, and she rests her head against the blonde’s shoulder, no longer worrying about following the music. 

 

She feels lips brush against her head, and sighs, content at staying in Emma's arms. 

 

*

 

It’s a couple of days later when she realizes Daddy’s birthday is that week. She’s ashamed to say she forgot about it entirely until Emma asked her curiously when her birthday is. It’s easy to remember after that because Daddy’s is two months before hers. She decides to go to church, as they would have gone together back in Storybrooke. 

 

It’s early Sunday morning then, that she showers while Emma makes breakfast, stepping out of the tub with her hair clinging to her back. She’s not one to hover over the mirror, not lately at least, because she has ten million other activities she has to do before even placing her make-up, but today, she catches a glimpse of her body when she’s drying her tired body. 

 

It startles her how easily she can see through her skin, her veins blue and green visible where they weren’t before. Perhaps the most startling thing she notices is how flat her stomach is, how there’s a gap between her legs that wasn’t there before. 

 

She runs a hand down her ribs, counts each one and then hastily retracts her hands. She changes quickly after that, shaking fingers clasping her bra together, refusing to look down at her waning body anymore. 

 

Emma’s humming when she enters the kitchen, Henry propped on one hip as she flips eggs over.

 

“I’m going to church,” she announces carefully.

 

Emma glances at her from the stove. “Um, okay…” turning to look at her quizzically, she adds, “I thought you didn’t-“ She waves the spatula around. 

 

“I- well, it’s my father’s birthday.”

 

“Oh. _Oh.”_ Emma frowns down at the eggs, and turns the stove off, facing Regina fully. 

 

“I was- well,” she clears her throat and forces herself to look at green eyes. “I was wondering if I could take Henry with me.”

 

Emma doesn’t react, just moves forward and sits Henry in his eating chair. 

 

“Sure,” she says after a second, shrugging like she didn’t just hand Regina a gift. “Just, no wine for this one,” she smiles easily.

 

Regina’s mouth quirks up for a second before she’s clearing her throat, nervous again.

 

“I thought, maybe-“ she stutters, “maybe you could come with?”

 

Emma freezes, reaching for her cup across Henry’s reach.

 

“Um.” Her eyes dart to the side, scratching the back of her neck. “It’s just, that’s not really my uh-“ she gestures to her body, as if that explains everything.

 

Suddenly embarrassed at asking in the first place, Regina stiffens. 

 

“I see.”

 

“But, I uh-“

 

“That’s fine, thank you,” she doesn’t know what she’s saying, just knows she wants to leave soon and so she does, drops a quick kiss to Henry’s head and locks the door behind her, ignoring the blonde’s sputtering. 

 

She walks to the nearest church, about a ten minute walk, and she feels so very lonely, walking amongst dozens of people, that she takes her phone out in a moment of weakness. 

 

She opens the latest message with cold fingers, Emma’s gloves forgotten in her haste to leave.

 

_I won’t be so gracious if I have to force you home, darling._

 

She breathes through her nose, and opens the rest, reading in order.

 

_Darling, come home_ , reads the first one, simple and to the point and Regina’s breath catches when she reads _home_.

 

_If push comes to shove, I will bring you home myself_ , sounds more like her Mother, imposing and demanding.

 

_I miss you, my dear girl._ There are tears in her eyes and she just wants her Mother back, wants to wrap her arms around her stiff waist.

 

_Don’t make me involve that lovely friend of yours and her son._ Her heart speeds up with the threat, the promise to bring hell to Emma’s doorsteps and her steps falter, her phone almost falling out of her hands. 

 

_Remember you are mine. This is your last chance,_ is the second to last one and Regina’s fingers twitch with the need to respond or call her, promising to return if only she’ll leave Emma alone, Emma and her son who are the brightest spots in her life. It scares her, how she wants to return just because Mother asked her to.

 

She arrives at the church and genuflects easily, kneels on one knee and sends a quick prayer, the line stumbling from her lips. The ceremony starts soon and Regina can’t stop shaking, her Mother’s words weaving through her heart and making it as cold as her hands. She barely listens, focused on how her heart tells her she’s still alive, somehow, despite Mother’s words.

 

It isn’t until they’re half way through the second reading that the doors fly open unceremoniously, letting a blast of cold air enter the cozy church, making heads turns. She can’t see what’s causing the commotion, but she doesn’t focus much on it, just keeps staring at the priests brightly colored robes. 

 

She spots her from the corner of her eye, stupid _stupid_ Emma walking nervously through the aisle, looking around for her. She’s wearing one of Regina’s nicest shirts, her hair pulled into a high bun and there’s tint of red on her lips. 

 

She’s almost to the front, the priest eyeing her curiously, when she genuflects awkwardly with her left hand and bows ridiculously. 

 

“Emma,” she hisses, because the blonde looks so desperately lost, clutching a very handsome Henry. Green eyes find hers and she visible sags, roughly makes her way to Regina while shouldering people.

 

Finally, she sits next to her and Regina can smell her own perfume on the blonde. 

 

“You _idiot_ ,” Emma whispers, settling Henry in her own lap, “I was gonna say _yes_.”

 

“Oh.” Regina’s mouth falls open, mostly at being pleasantly surprised, but also at seeing how lovely Emma looks with her hair pinned and her red lips.

 

Emma grumbles but takes the brunette’s hands in hers andthe other wraps around Henry’s stomach. It’s then that she notices Henry’s gelled back hair, no beanie and in one of his nicest onesies. 

 

“You know, you don’t have to dress so well for church.” Regina tries, suddenly very comfortable with her hand in Emma’s. 

 

“Oh, shove it Ms. Mills,” Emma’s mouth twitches with a smile.

 

The music sounds for the gospel and Henry claps loudly to it; smothering a smile, Regina takes him in her arms, standing next to Emma. The blonde’s hand lands on the small of her back, and it’s so easy, how familiar this all feels. She can feel Emma's warmth through her shirt and suddenly she wants to know how they look like from behind, a blonde woman gently supporting another woman holding a child. Blushing, she tries quieting her mind. 

 

When it’s time for communion, and after Henry’s clapped along to several songs, Emma stands to follow Regina to the altar, gathering Henry in her arms. 

 

“What are you doing?” She hisses, already in line.

 

“Uh, well- I actually don’t…know? Getting communion, right?” Emma hisses back.

 

“You can’t, unless you’ve had your First Communion.” Regina shakes her head, getting closer to the altar. 

 

“This _is_ my first communion.” Emma says confused, breathing on Regina’s back.

 

“Oh, my go- have you been baptized?”

 

“It rained on the day I was left on the side of a road, does that count?” Emma hisses. “Wait, am I going to hell if I eat Jesus?”

 

Regina’s at the very front now, the priest talking to her solemnly and she takes the host in her tongue. Walking away, she turns slightly to see Emma panicking, opening and closing her mouth as the priest waits for her to say ‘Amen.’

 

She ends up lifting Henry to the priests eye level and he places a quick blessing on him before Emma scurries away, red faced. She tries standing in line behind Regina again to drink the wine, but the brunette shoves her to their seats, barely containing a smile. 

 

*

 

“I can’t believe I almost went to hell,” Emma says as they’re walking to the bug she drove in her hast to catch up to Regina.

 

“I’m sure you’re already well on your way.” Regina chirps, opening the back door to buckle Henry in. She flicks his nose gently and he smiles toothlessly at her. 

 

“Har har.” They settle in and make their way back to the apartment, the morning still early. 

 

Emma clears her throat and drums her fingers on the steering wheel, looking over at her.

 

“Listen, I don’t uh- I’m sorry you came here on your own. It’s just, I wanted to explain that it’s not really my scene, you know? I mean, these are Ruby’s shoes.” Emma laughs a little and looks back to Regina. 

 

“Emma-“

 

“Wait, just let me finish. Please.” At Regina’s nod, she continues. “Um, I don’t know if you wanted to do this just cause of your dad’s birthday and all, but if, you know, you want to keep going, it’d be…cool. I mean, the kid liked it, he stayed still for as long as he could, right? And as long as I like, don’t go up again and condemn myself to hell, it’s not that bad.”

 

She glances at Regina again, her fingers still drumming against the leather. 

 

“Um, so yeah. If you want to. Because that’s what like, families do, right?” She waves her hand, and it looks like she might be close to sweating. 

 

Forcing her hoarse voice to _do_ something, she says warmly, “That’d be..lovely, actually.”

 

Emma visible relaxes and sends a bright smile her way. “Great!” 

 

Truth be told, Regina’s not one for God and heaven and hell. She remembers nights praying that Mother’s hand wouldn’t come flaying down so harshly, but after a while, had stopped asking for help, for companionship, for faith. 

 

_God, if there is a hell, please let it be nothing like her_ , she remembers thinking on her knees, hands clasped together as she tried in vain to feel something. 

 

But this, this feeling of family and warmth that she felt when Emma sat next to her, Henry crawling to her lap, Emma’s soft hand on her back, it makes her want to sit in that pew for hours. 

 

Mother’s messages echo in her mind but she tries to be conjure some courage, despite her aching heart and her lonely nights.

 

“Oh, and I was thinking, if you want, that we could register for school soon. The spring semester is comin’ up-“ Emma continues making plans for a future she doesn’t know she’s strong enough for, Mother’s words succeeding into cutting into her. 

 

*

 

It happens quickly. There’s something poetic about how it starts, although if Regina were to pick a moment where it all truly begun, she’d say it was when Emma opened the door for the first time, with her fierce scowl and glittering piercings. 

 

Now though, stuck in the moment, it starts with Ashley asking her to cover a table. It’s ordinary, sickeningly so, how she wipes her hands and sends the waitress an easy smile, hauling the tray filled with drinks on her shoulder. She passes Emma like it’s any other day, her hand resting fleetingly against her hip as she squeezes past her, and makes her way to greet the customer. 

 

It’s so _ordinary_ , she doesn’t pause to realize she recognizes the black hair jutting out from the booth, doesn’t stop to think that the air smells too familiar, until she rounds the booth and stares directly into charcoal eyes. 

 

The drinks drop from her shoulders, stain her shoes as her heart jump starts and in that moment, the only thing she coherently thinks is, _I’m wearing Emma’s Batman socks._

 

The diner goes silent but she only sees dark dark eyes and red lips so perfectly painted she thinks it’s a hallucination, but the woman smirks so familiarly that Regina takes a step back, needing to separate herself from Mother. 

 

Her shoes skid on the liquid all around her and for some odd reason, she bends to pick the cups up, throw rags and napkins on the mess while waiting for the mop Granny will no doubt bring. 

 

She feels Mother’s eyes on her like knives splitting her spine open, and her hands shake furiously, her hair in her eyes, making her oh so small.

 

When she looks up, the booth is empty. 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am very sorry

She’s sent to the apartment by a furious Granny. 

 

“I’m fine. I just- I’m a little dizzy, that’s all.”

 

She sees Emma frowning at her with worried eyes, green eyes turned dull as she steps towards her before Granny barks an order and sends her walking slowly to the kitchen, glancing over her shoulder one last time.

 

Emma didn’t see, didn’t feel the way Mother had cut through all her defenses with one look, had her wishing for more all at once; she doesn’t understand why she’s shaking so furiously. She sends the blonde a reassuring smile, waiting until Emma seems satisfied enough.

 

Slipping out the back door, she covers her face as much as she can with the blonde’s scarf. The walk to the apartment is long, she glances over her shoulder every five seconds searching for an aging face with painted lips, trembling against the wind. She has the ridiculous thought that Mother’s going to pop out of any alley, brandishing a knife and forcing her home.

 

She nearly giggles at the image, her mind going hysterical with the fear that’s gripping at her heart, and she keeps glancing at every turn until the familiar building creeps up.

 

Once inside the dark apartment, she thanks the universe, god, Mother, _anybody_ , that there’s nobody there. Henry’s at August’s tonight, one strike of luck in her favor, she thinks as her hands shakily place her keys back in her pocket. 

 

She takes one stuttering breath, releases it in a hysterical laugh and finally, after months and years and decades, she simply _breaks_. 

 

Three steps is all it takes for her to lock herself in the restroom, but it takes a little longer to realize why her fists are bloody, why her knees are burning.

 

_Fingers splayed around her neck, tugging and tugging until there’s too much pressure._

 

She sees her reflection in the dirty mirror, the dingy light casting shadows on her collarbones, protruding painfully and in one swift move, her reflection shatters into dozens of fragments.

 

She can still see a too skinny neck that’s hidden too many bruises and her bloody fist meets her face again, until all she can see is chipped paint marred red.

 

_“Why must you make is so difficult to love you, Regina?”_

 

“I’m sorry, I’m _sorry_ ,” she sobs, voice cracking. The room is spinning painfully, the lights too bright and the room too small, reminds her of closets too small for her growing body. 

 

Her knuckles drip blood as she grips the sink, red staining the porcelain. Her head hangs low as her face contorts in pain, her chest heaving and her breath is tearing through her throat in strangled bursts. 

 

_“Wouldn’t it have been better, Henry, to have given birth to a boy? Someone without_ _weakness_ _.”_

 

“I can be better, I _promise_ , just let me _try_.” She can’t see anything but red lips scowling down at her in disgust, in disappointment and a shudder runs from her neck to the base of her spine.

 

She’s cold, so very cold in the tiny restroom and she doesn’t understand why, just keeps shuddering.

 

_Stupid, foolish girl._

 

“I’m sorry, Momma, I’m _sorry_ ,” she repeats, running her nails on her thighs, leaving long marks against tan skin. 

 

_“I’m sorry.”_

 

_*_

 

Emma finds her with her head in-between her knees, breathing haggardly as she tries to convince herself that Mother is ten thousand miles away from her bleeding heart.

 

She’s sitting in front of the door, waiting for the blonde to come home, waiting for someone to take her away, she doesn’t know. Emma comes first.

 

The blonde gasps loudly at the blood running down her arms, at her stinging knees and the glass inside her skin. It’s honestly not that bad, she wants to say, but she can’t feel anything from her elbows down.

 

Emma’s gentle with her touch, flutters her fingertips over her head until Regina startles, unlodging her head from between her knees and looking up at the blonde with wide, red eyes. 

 

She sees Emma locking her jaw, sees murder in her eyes, before she feels her gentle touch around her arm, leading her up and into the apartment. 

 

“Who did this?” She says, because she doesn’t understand that Regina is almost always to blame for the bad things in her life. 

 

“Me,” she croaks out, staring straight ahead. She’s vaguely aware of Emma kneeling in front of her with pluckers, lip between her teeth as she takes the glass out, vaguely feels the pain she should be enjoying. 

 

Mostly, she sees blonde hair pulling her under and making her heart steady steady steady. There’s white bandages wrapped clumsy around her knuckles, feels lips pressed to sore hands before she’s being led, like a spooked child, to her bed, slipped under the covers and tucked in. 

 

She hears Emma on the phone, mumbling softly as she sweeps and cleans blood off the floor. Gingerly sitting up, her mind numb, Regina sees her kneeled against the tile floors of the restroom scrubbing furiously at a red spot, holding back sobs as she explains oh so quietly to August that _Regina isn’t okay, August, I need to do_ _something._

 

Falling lightly back into bed, she feels a warmth enveloping her heart, breaking thorough the ice that Mother built in the two seconds she saw her. 

 

She’s safe here. She’s _cared_ for here. (So why does she feel like running?)

 

Emma comes to bed twenty minutes later, cheeks scrubbed raw and slips quietly under the covers, scooting over until she’s in the middle of the bed.

 

“I’m sorry,” she whispers and Regina’s frame starts shaking because she knows Emma doesn’t understand anything that happened, doesn’t know Mother’s back and yet _she’s_ the one apologizing. 

 

When Regina doesn’t respond, the bed dips as Emma draws in a shuddering breath and turns on her side facing Regina, scoots even closer. She’s shy of molding her entire lithe body into Regina’s when she stops and simply lets the tip of her nose rest against the brunette’s back, a silent source of strength. 

 

She feels her inhale and exhale, Regina’s body relaxing under the blonde’s single touch. They don't sleep much, but she takes in every ounce of support Emma is trying to give her.

 

*

 

She leaves the bed with a disconcerting amount of pain radiating through every inch of her body, just as the sun is barely coming up. Still, she dresses and leaves Emma snoring slightly, make up smudged under her eyes. 

 

After a quick shower (don’t look at the floor, the blood, the glass) she’s feeling infinitely better and she’s decided, with a firm mental shake, that Mother was simply a fragment of her imagination, much like Emma’s heated looks and flirtatious tone.

 

She prepares breakfast, in a rush to pretend everything is fine and she even forces herself to hum, making the morning as lively as she can in her bare feet and wet hair, no matter how swollen her knuckles are, or how red her eyes are gleaming. 

 

There’s no little prince this morning to yank her into a warm embrace, but there’s coffee to warm her throat. Venturing into the living room to see what she can do while Emma wakes up, she notices her coat on the floor, her shoes scattered and she bends to pick them up with a sigh. 

 

Her phone falls out of her pocket, like in a goddamn movie, and she notices she has one new message. 

 

Making sure there’s no movement coming down the hall or in their bedroom, Regina flips the phone open, biting her thumb nail and reads quickly, turns the phone off, and snaps the battery off for good measure.

 

_You’re looking far too skinny, dear. Poverty doesn’t suit you._

 

“Morning,” Emma mumbles right behind her, making her jump.

 

She turns to witness Emma rubbing her eyes, hair wild and messy despite staying in the same position the entire night. 

 

“Good morning,” Regina tries, staring at the sight in front of her. 

 

“How are your hands?” The blonde moves to the kitchen casually, trying not to disarm Regina. She knows where she’s going with the questioning and Regina’s not nearly ready.

 

She ignores her, trying with one last final attempt to let last night disappear. 

 

“Coffee?” She asks instead, handing the blonde a perfect cup, and Emma frowns at her. 

 

“Regina,” she takes a step forward but retracts when she sees the brunette flinch. 

 

Admitting defeat and placing her cup down, Regina sits heavily on the kitchen island. “My Mother is here.” She says it quickly, misses the way Emma’s eyes flutter close in resignation. 

 

“She came here?” Emma sits in front of her. 

 

“No,” Regina shakes her head, picks at the skin on her thumb, “she payed me a visit in the diner.”

 

“What- what did she want, do you know?” There’s something catching in the back of Emma’s throat, her muscles constricting painfully as she swallows with force. 

 

“No,” she says again, sighing, “but I guess we’ll find out soon.”

 

Emma bites her cheek, looks torn in between speaking or reaching out to touch her before she leans forward and clasps her hands round her coffee cup, looking at Regina with somber eyes. 

 

“You could press charges, you know,” she says softly, her words caressing against the brunette’s shocked face.

 

“She’s my _mother_ ,” Regina exclaims, rising from the table in a frenzied energy.

 

“I know, I know,” Emma raises her palms and looks at her with pleading eyes. “I just don’t want her near you.” She’s frowning, determination and concern palpable on her face.

 

“Well, why _not_?” She runs a hand through her hair, long locks tangling in her shaking fingers. She knows she should agree that her Mother is bad news, that she shouldn’t be near her now, but that’s a blatant lie she doesn’t fully believe. 

 

Emma squints dangerously, analyzing the way her hands are shaking and how she won’t meet the blonde’s eyes. 

 

“Because she can hurt you,” she explains, her voice strong and steady.

 

“She’d never hurt me, she’s my Mother!” She yells right back, her eyes wildly searching for Emma’s. “She’d _never_ hurt me!”

 

Emma rises from the island, taking a deep breath.

“Yeah, she’s your mom, but she’s _already_ hurt you, remember? When you came he-“

 

“Yes, yes,” Regina shakes her head, clearing her thoughts. “Of course, I remember. I just-“ She takes a deep breath and hesitates on how much of herself she can share.

 

“I miss her,” she ends up stating simply. 

 

“Yeah, of cour-“

 

“No, Emma, I _miss_ her. I can’t explain it, I don’t- it’s not _normal_. I keep thinking maybe I overreacted when I left, maybe it wasn’t that bad and I’m just being an ungrateful _brat_.”

 

Emma’s shaking her head, frowning and moving closer to the distressed brunette. 

 

“Regina, that’s not true. She _hurt_ you.” Emma says fervently.

 

But how can she say it so easily, like it’s black and white, like her Mother never touched her tenderly and with love?

 

“It wasn’t that bad, Emma, I swear.” Regina tries convincing herself. “Or, or- I don’t _know_. It’s- she’s playing with my mind!”

 

And that’s how it’s always been. Mother offers bits of heaven in the guise of love, making Regina trust her and believe her when she says it’s the younger woman’s fault. If she had been better, Mother wouldn’t have hurt her. 

 

Mother with her sweet voice and tender hands, how could she ever hurt her intentionally? 

 

“Regina,” Emma tries, “she’s conditioning you to go back to her, _please_ tell me you see that.”

 

Except Regina can’t truly see because she’s been in the same position for nineteen years, doesn’t know any other type of love that isn’t destructive and toxic. That’s just what love is to her, it kills her in the sweetest of ways. 

 

“Rationally,” Regina takes a deep breath, “I know it’s wrong. _Of course_ it’s wrong, don’t you think I noticed when other children were only scared of being _grounded_ , instead of- of, well. I know it’s wrong, _rationally_ , of course.”

 

“Of course,” Emma repeats, voice hoarse. “But you know she’s hurt you, Regina, you _know._ ”

 

“I can’t- it’s- I didn’t _know_ any better, Emma! I didn’t know, nobody ever told me the difference between love and abuse. And now- Emma, it’s the same thing to me, do you see?! And it’s so difficult to get my mind straight.”

 

She hates that she’s admitting this, hates that she’s saying she doesn’t have control over what her mind is trying to tell her, but she supposes if anybody is going to find out, it's Emma.

 

“Regina,” she says sharply and the brunette just shakes her head.

 

“It’ll pass. It always does, I just need to distance myself from her.” She squares her shoulders and wills her mind to believe her and to stop thinking of Mother.

 

Emma doesn’t seem convinced but the brunette stares at her head-on, eyes blazing with confidence and determination. 

 

There’s a tentative knock on the door, something that never happens, and Emma yells that it’s open, never straying her eyes from Regina’s. Her arms are crossed and her feet are standing apart, Emma’s ready to fight. 

 

She tries not to think about how much she wants Emma to fight for her.

 

August comes in with a sleeping Henry in his stroller and Regina instantly melts.

 

She kneels and picks him up, his familiar scent and warm weight relaxing her tired mind.August is looking at her bandages with an uneasy grimace but she ignores him, burying her face against Henry. 

 

“Good morning,” August mumbles, pressing a quick kiss to her temple and for some odd reason, she feels her eyes well up with unshed tears as she strokes one hand down Henry’s back.

 

*

She turns her phone back on, has to in case Granny or Ruby calls and she settles beside Emma on the couch after placing the battery in, Henry in her arms. August had left after a quiet breakfast and had squeezed her shoulders once before clipping his badge on.

 

Emma’s got her laptop, her black glasses perched on her nose as she scrolls through the community college’s website. 

 

“Do you know what your major is?” She mumbles quietly, squinting at the screen.

 

“Does that really matter for the basics?” She replies lazily, playing with Henry fingers.

 

“I guess not,” Emma sends her an odd look; Regina straightens out and peers over the blonde’s shoulder to the boxes she’s filling out.

 

“I have a middle name,” she says into Emma’s shoulder, her cheek pressed against warm skin, and the cursor is sent back to the box labeled ‘name.’

 

“ _Really_?” Emma says excitingly and they fill out the rest of the form like that, pressed against each other and Regina tries not to feel as if she’s signing up for something she won’t begin.

 

*

 

“You wouldn’t leave, would you?”

 

Emma’s head is resting on Regina’s lap, Henry napping peacefully in his bassinet by their feet and she’s been absentmindedly running her fingers through blonde tresses. 

 

She’s vaguely aware that Emma’s been staring at her for the past ten minutes, but, in a rush to pretend everything is fine, Regina's  been ignoring her and staring blankly at the television instead.

 

Now though, her eyes flicker down to where Emma’s biting her lip, before she redirects her eyes back to the TV.

 

“Of course not,” she says lowly, eyes hollow. 

 

“Promise?” It’s childish and she doesn’t know if she can even _keep_ that promise, but for Emma, she’ll try.

 

“I promise.” Her eyes never stray from the TV and Emma nods, believing her. 

 

She knows it’s mostly out of obligation.

 

*

 

Emma doesn’t go into the bar that night; she calls in sick and walks Regina home from work, their hands brushing slightly at every step they take.

 

The fourth time Emma’s gloved knuckles brush against her bandaged ones, Regina snatches her hand and stares straight ahead.

 

“My hands are cold,” she mumbles and she can _hear_ Emma smiling with how far her lips stretch. The blonde swings their hands a little and Regina’s lips quirk oh so slightly.

 

Her phone pings while Emma snores, an address and a time shine back at her as the screen’s light blind her. She takes a shuddering breath and rolls to face the sleeping blonde, throwing her phone in the pile of clothes Emma refuses to hang.

 

Reaching out tentatively because she realized in a rather unfortunate incident that Emma’s a light sleeper, she traces a finger down the blonde’s freckled nose. 

 

When she doesn’t wake, she grows bolder and lifts a shaking finger to rosy lips, tracing them lightly until she reaches a slack corner. 

 

Emma snorts loudly then and Regina smiles widely, the first of the day, and settles against her pillow. 

 

She doesn’t want to leave, she realizes. She’s got two sides pulling at her mind and the side where Emma makes her morning pancakes and sings loudly in the kitchen is winning out.

 

She knows this won’t last long, knows Mother’s pull on her so she runs a thumb over Emma’s lower lip and slips out of bed urgently.

 

She dials quickly as she throws one of Emma’s hoodie over her pajamas, suddenly in a hurry. She doesn’t realize she drops a kiss to Emma’s forehead until she’s walking through the busy streets of New York, her mind miles away.

 

*

 

“You guys realize I need sleep, too, right?” August deadpans, wheeling his chair round his desk and stopping directly in front of a sitting Regina.

 

“I’m sorry,” she says as August rubs his eyes and clicks his pen a couple of times. He looks up at her then, tired eyes piercing through her and she tries not to shift in the seat next to his desk.

 

There’s a picture of Emma and Henry that she noticed as soon as she sat down, both of them in grey beanies and grinning madly under a green tree. 

 

There’s another of the four of them, Ruby, August, Emma and Henry squeezed together in the pink couch and Regina wonders if she’ll make it to his desk if she stays long enough. 

 

“You can make me a _torta_ to make up for it.” He smiles easily at her and she quirks her eyebrow at him. “So, you know how this works?”

 

She picks at the skin of her thumb and shakes her head, before she clasps her hands in her lap and straightens out her back.

 

“Okay, well- you choose how much you tell me, alright? I’m gonna type it out, exactly as you say it and then I’ll print it out, you’ll sign in and I’ll file it away.”

 

“Can you do that? Just ‘save’ it for later?”

 

August shrugs and shuffles a couple of papers in front of him. He turns the computer so she can see the screen and begins filling out information. 

 

“Let’s start with the most recent incident, as much as you can remember. Can you give me a date?”

 

“October 3rd,” she replies instantly. The stitches are gone and her skin isn’t raw anymore; she’s stopped picking at the skin when Mother started sending her messages, remembering her cold hands. “We were having a fight-“

 

August interrupts apologetically, brown eyes softening, “Did it always start with a fight?”

 

She swallows painfully and shakes her head. He types quickly and suddenly she doesn’t know if she can do this.

 

“What were you fighting about?” 

 

She sees Emma’s sleeping face and her fierce determination to keep her safe, and she takes a deep breath.

 

“I wanted to leave Storybrooke, she didn’t. We fought and she hit me.” She says in one breath and August stops typing. 

 

“Regina,” he starts and she already knows what he’s going to say so she glares softly and opens her mouth in annoyance. 

 

“We were standing in the kitchen, just after dinner. So, it must have been around seven in the afternoon. She rounded the island that was in the middle of the kitchen and,” she takes  a deep breath and stares at a spot above August’s eyebrow, “grabbed my braid and slammed my head against the island.”

 

Her foot starts tapping nervously and she quiets it down with ease.

 

_A lady sits still, dear._

 

August types and then asks quietly what happened next.

 

“I blacked out.” She shrugs daintily, one shoulder coming up.

 

“What do you remember after that?” August asks simply, his voice smooth and professional.

 

“I woke up in bed around four in the morning. There were pills on my night stand and a glass of water. Daddy was sitting in a chair, blocking the door.”

 

August stills and Regina knows what’s going through his head.

 

“He never said, or did anything, no.” She responds before he can ask, giving him a light shake. She’d rather not talk about how his love was warm and sweet but never protective enough.

 

“Do you know who stitched you up?” He tilts his head, continuing his questioning but no longer typing. 

 

“Dr. Whale, probably. He never questioned any of the injures I had.”

 

And he hadn’t, he was under Mother’s influential thumb just as everybody else had been. She had nobody to tell.

 

August nods and scrolls through the screen, making corrections here and there. Once he’s finished, he brings up the choice to print.

 

“Is that all you want to report?” He asks hesitantly, and Regina focuses on how there’s people bustling around the precinct despite it being nearly three in the morning instead of his warm eyes.

 

“Yes,” she says, because for now, she knows this will keep her safe.

 

*

 

“ _Te amo_ ,” she whispers in Henry’s little ear as she settles him against her chest, back in the safe apartment. Ruby’s legs are dangling over the cot, her arm thrown over her eyes and it seems like she slipped back into the building without anybody noticing. 

 

She knows she should let Henry sleep in his bed, knows he might wake if she moves him too much but his warm weight against her has always calmed her down, so she carries him with her and leans against the doorway to her room, staring at a sleeping blonde. 

 

She memorizes the way blonde hair curls around Emma’s pale arm and the way Henry scrunches his nose almost at the same time as his mother. 

 

She feels inexplicably nostalgic, as if she knows this is the image she will come back to again and again later on, and it’s that intrusive thought that scares and makes her think of the address and time sitting in her inbox.

 

She’s staying, she reminds herself fiercely, holding Henry tighter. 

 

She’s _staying_.

 

*

 

Her phone pings again when Emma’s bustling around in the kitchen, but the blonde is too busy fixing a laughing Henry a snack that she doesn’t notice the way Regina stiffens almost immediately. Something tight constricts against her heart and she feels pressure building at the base of her skull.

 

_Please, Regina._

 

She feels her world tilt, like she’s about to faint because Mother never _begs_ , never asks anything, always takes and takes and _takes_ , and now Regina feels like she’s in control. 

 

Still, she focuses on Emma’s swaying hair as she hums, enjoys the way green eyes find hers and how her smile makes her heart flutter without her permission. She tries, she really does, but the next message makes her bang her knee against the table.

 

_I love you, dearest._

 

She pinches her eyes closed, takes a deep breath and suddenly, she feels her resolve waning, her strength leaving her body.

 

“I’m going for a walk.” Standing abruptly she makes her way to the kitchen entrance.

 

“Hm?” Emma looks up, spoon halfway to her mouth and looks at her quizzically. 

 

“A walk, Emma. You know, the thing you do with your feet.” She won’t meet her eyes and her voice is ten times colder than she intended for it to be, but she just _has_ to see Mother already.

 

Once she made up her mind about seeing her, she’s feels like she’s wasting time at every second she lags behind.

 

“Oh. Take Henry,” Emma says a little too innocently and Regina moves quickly to their room so as to avoid her eyes. She changes absentmindedly into one of Emma’s worn sweaters, and pulls the blonde’s red hoodie over her curls.

 

“No, I think I’d rather go alone, just this once,” she replies, walking back to the kitchen and goes to grab a water bottle from the fridge.

 

“Regina,” Emma warns, eyeing her suspiciously. 

 

“I’ll be back.” She says cheerfully, head stuck inside the fridge because the blonde is looking at her too knowingly. 

 

“Don’t leave. She could still be here,” she retorts, green eyes silently begging her and Regina’s heart constricts again. 

 

“I’ll be back, I _promise_.” She straightens out and places a lingering kiss on Henry’s head, inhaling his familiar scent before she’s bolting out the kitchen.

 

“ _Regina_ ,” Emma tries again, following her to the door, the spoon still in her hands.

 

The brunette takes a good look at her, bare feet against the apartment floor and a loose tank top showing her strong arms, brows furrowed and cheeks flushed with concern.

 

“I’m sorry,” she whispers so quietly she knows Emma didn’t hear it, and she closes the door before she second guesses herself.

 

*

 

She’s only a block from the apartment when she spots a navy scarf blowing in the wind, its owner’s back to Regina.

 

Taking a deep breath and standing taller, Regina casts a look behind her shoulder to make sure Emma’s not following. She feels a twinge of shame at the back of her heart but she reminds herself can’t keep running from Mother. She’ll find her eventually and this, Regina _choosing_ to talk to her, gives her a little more control. 

 

It’s just a talk, she tells herself. She’ll tell the older woman how happy she is, how much better she’s doing without her and then they’ll part ways.

 

Cora will keep trying to contact her, because she doesn’t do well with people defying her, but Regina will stand tall and neglect her. 

 

_She can do this._

 

Her hands are shaking and her heart feels too full, like she has too much love and hate and anger directed towards one person.

 

The navy scarf whirls in the air as its owner turns and Regina’s heart tugs painfully at the way Mother looks at her so hopefully. Her mind glitches, suddenly forgetting stitches and blackening bruises; all she cares for suddenly is Mother’s love.

 

Older arms stretch out in an inviting way and Regina hesitates briefly before she’s stumbling into her mother’s arms, clutching weakly at her sides as Mother laughs in her ear and hugs her tighter than she’s ever done. 

 

Her rich perfume engulfs her and her hair, so similar to her own, brushes against her cheek and Regina feels like she should have never left.

 

“Oh, darling,” she says, voice rich. “Darling,” she repeats and Regina knows she’s nearly lost.

 

Mother cups her cheeks in her hands, red lips quivering and Regina’s never felt quite so painfully and wonderfully full as when Mother silently shakes her head and says, “I’m _sorry_.”

 

She doesn’t know who this woman is, the one who apologizes and holds her close, she seems like something straight out of six year old Regina’s mind and she knows she’s not to be trusted, but the words Mother’s saying are so sweet and so lovely that Regina caves in without restraint. 

 

“I should have never treated you so badly, Regina,” Mother keeps talking and Regina looks down, holding back tears as she recalls what the hands holding her so tenderly now can really do. “I’m so sorry, darling girl.” 

 

All of her resolve is gone.

 

There’s a half smile twisted on Mother’s wrinkled face, so uncharacteristically bright as she holds on to Regina’s cheeks. 

 

She’s apologizing, something Mother never knew how to do before, and if she’s willing to fly thousands of miles just to give her a brittle smile and apologize twice ( _twice!_ ) then what isn’t Mother willing to do, to change?

 

Her mind feels heavy, like she’s trying to pull pieces together that just won’t fit because _Mother_ and _love_ and _kindness_ have always been unwilling to fit together, but in this moment where her mind is reeling and glitching with Mother’s regret, they suddenly fit perfectly. 

 

She still hasn’t spoken, still to shocked at seeing such open affection.

 

“I just want you back, Regina. I want a second _chance_.” It’s the closest thing to a recognition of Mother’s abuse that she’s ever heard, and she crumbles in the middle of the busy street, safely inside her Mother’s embrace.

 

She knows she shouldn’t cave in so easily, knows Mother could be lying and is just setting her up for failure but her eyes are so bright and her arms are warm and safe. She feels the same shame tug painfully, and a flash of blonde hair passes through her mind. She feels her spine straightening and tries to form a sentence despite the warm haze.

 

“You hurt me,” she whispers into her Mother’s arms and the older woman tenses. Her eyes go cold and hard for brief second before they’re melting again.

 

“I know, Regina, and I’m- sorry,” Mother flinches awkwardly, “but I need you to _help me_ treat you better.”

 

That’s a heavy responsibility to fall on _you_ , Emma would say, tilting her head and squinting at her with her piercing eyes. 

 

But Mother is trying, doesn’t this short trip and sincere apology mean something? Mother is _trying_ and if she doesn’t help her, doesn’t accept part of the guilt, then Regina’s not doing everything she can to fix their relationship.

 

It would be Regina’s fault then, that Mother fails. 

 

She takes a deep breath and nods, Mother’s hand still cupping her cheeks tightly. 

 

“What do you need me to do?” She whispers, voice cracking.

 

*

 

“She’s coming back,” Emma nods, tapping Henry’s lips with a spoonful of smashed strawberries. He frowns at her and turns his head to the other side, pouting dramatically.

 

“Awe, come on. Not you, too.” She pokes his stomach and looks at the kitchen entryway for the hundredth time. Regina’s been gone for twenty minutes and she doesn’t know how long a _walk_ can take when it comes to the prickly brunette. 

 

“She’s coming _back_ ,” she repeats, biting her lip. Henry levels her with a curious gaze and she slams her head on the little plastic table attached to his eating chair.

 

“It’s not like she’d just-“ she flails the spoon around, strawberries flying everywhere, “use a walk as an excuse to fuck- _freaking_ leave, kiddo.” She raises her head and taps the spoon on her chin, staring back at Henry.

 

“She’s not like, a dad saying he’s going to the corner store for cigarettes and never coming back, huh?” She chuckles nervously and Henry stares blankly up at her, being of no help at all.

 

Sure, Regina’s mother is out there, _true_ , and Regina misses her mother, _true_ , but it’s not like the older woman would attempt to kidnap her daughter for a second time, right?

 

Unless…

 

“ _Fuck_ ,” she says, eyes going wide as she stands up abruptly.

 

Unless Regina would _willingly_ go to her. 

 

She throws on her jacket in a panic, “I’m so _stupid_ , oh my _god_!”

 

Regina doesn’t take _walks_ , Regina hates the busy streets and leering men, hates it when she offers to walk around the park with Henry, why hadn’t she listened to that nagging voice that told her something was fucking _wrong_?

 

“Don’t just _sit_ there, let’s go!” She half screams at a blinking Henry and she stubs her toe on a chair as she tries to throw her shoes on.

 

*

 

She hesitates briefly, her numb fingers grazing the black door handle when Mother’s hands curl around her arm.

 

“It’s best this way, Regina. They can’t take care of you as I can, and think of all the space you’re taking up in that small apartment.”

 

Mother wasn’t fooled by Emma’s stunt that first day, when August had flashed his badge and Emma had been a Booth instead of a Swan. 

 

Her fingers close against the handle and she takes a deep breath, still not climbing in the car.

 

“They don’t have the resources we do, dear. Having another mouth to feed when your friend is already struggling is just cruel,” Mother says placatingly and a twinge of guilt appears.

 

She looks back to the apartment and with one forlorn look at the old building, she climbs into the black car. Mother rounds to the other side, a sly smile on her face and buckles in easily. The click of the belt resonates in the quiet car and Regina turns in her seat, Emma’s hoodie sliding along the slick leather.

 

There’s people milling about the street, too many people, and she’s about to turn and sit right when a green stroller catches her eyes. 

 

Brown eyes widening, she clutches at the back of her seat as she sees Emma through the back window, frantically looking around and maneuvering a cheering Henry in his stroller. Her face is taut with panic, her jacket is unzipped and flapping in the wind and Henry’s beanie is sitting lopsidedly on his tiny head. 

 

Her heart aches, a band tight around it that makes her breathing stop. The car moves forward just as Emma crosses an alleyway, peering in quickly and slowing her mad running before she takes off again. 

 

The car moves slowly and Regina is still twisted in her seat when Emma rushes past the unfamiliar car she’s in. She can see her mouth moving frantically, probably shouting and her hand shoots out to the car handle. 

 

It’s locked, of course, and Regina tugs at it painfully. 

 

Still, the blonde passes the car, right besides Regina, and Mother’s hand is suddenly tight around her arm. She can’t breath, can’t breath, can’t breath.

 

“It’s better this way, Regina. _Trust_ me.” Mother says and the car speeds forward even as Regina is holding back sobs, the car handle not budging, Emma not turning. 

 

She sees blonde hair disappear in the throng of people and Mother’s grip tightens. 

 

*

 

“I don’t _know_ , August! She just, she said, and I fucking quote,” Emma runs a hand through her hair, the other clutching her cheap phone, “‘I’m going for a walk’. A walk, that’s _it_.”

 

August mumbles something in the background before his voice is brought back to the speaker. 

 

“Well, how do you know she didn’t really go for a walk?”

 

“Because it’s been three _fucking_ hours, August!” She can feel her eyes tearing up and takes in a shuddering breath. “She said she’d come back, and she hasn’t. Ruby’s at the diner and I’m at the apartment and _neither_ of us have seen her.”

 

Her hand is still tugging painfully at the roots of her hair and she’s nearly to the point where she has to take out a cigarette when August speaks. 

 

“Well, I dunno, Ems. I don’t think she’d just take off to Storybrooke, she didn’t even take her money, right?” August’s concerned voice echoes out the speaker.

 

“Right, but her mother’s _here_! She could have-“

 

“Cora’s here? In- in New York?!”

 

“Yes!” Emma turns around when she hears Henry crying, his toys discard on the blanket she had laid down after nearly three hours of searching in the cold streets. 

 

She tries to calm down as she picks him up but he must sense her distress because he starts wailing loudly and she has to keep back her own tears as August keeps talking.

 

“She filed-, you know how she came in with those stitches and those bruises? Well, she reported the incident last night, did she tell you?” August rushes out and Emma’s stomach drops. “Came in to the precinct, so I don’t think she’d just _go_ with her mom.”

 

August sounds relieved but Emma’s vision is blurring with the tears she’s trying not to spill, and she sits on the couch to give her some balance, Henry still crying loudly in her ear.

 

Something loose is coming undone in her chest and she feels like she can’t breath.

 

“No, I-“ Henry beats his fists on her shoulder and her tears finally fall. “I think she reported it because she knew it would happen again. I think- I think she knew she’d see her mom again,” Emma whispers and hugs Henry to her stomach.

 

August says something but Emma is barely listening, she’s trying to calm her kid down and trying not to break down in her empty apartment. 

 

All of Regina’s things are still here, her jeans and boots and her make-up and Emma sobs into Henry’s shoulders as she thinks of Regina back in Storybrooke.

 

*

 

She’s six miles up in the air when she realizes she’s made a mistake. Mother’s grip had tightened significantly the closer they arrived to Storybrooke and all she could see every time she closed her eyes was Emma’s panicked face as she walked past the car.

 

Still, Mother had seemed genuine back in the busy street and it’s that thought alone that allows Regina to be guided back to the empty house. 

 

“Where’s Daddy?” she asks as the house lights up, entering through the cold foyer.

 

“Work,” Mother says simply, but the house feels too frigid and too bare.

 

*

 

“You can’t just leave in the middle of the night - _with Henry_ \- and storm into a raging bitch’s house!” Ruby plants her hands on her hips, her waitress uniform softening the glare she’s sporting. 

 

“But she can’t be back in that house, Ruby!” August screams back, his brows furrowed and his lips thinned out. 

 

“So, _what_?! You’re just gonna knock on the door and ask politely if Cora will let her climb back in the bug? You’re crazy!” She huffs, throwing her arms over her head.

 

“So we’re just gonna sit here until she’s sent to the hospital again or, or she manages to escape again? That’s even crazier, Rubes, we have to do _something_.” 

 

*

 

Mother leads her to her room and she feels nothing like she felt in the tiny apartment, her movements never watched too closely.

 

“I’m so glad you’re back, darling,” Mother says as she turns the light on and she's distracted by the sense of familiarity that spreads across her chest as she sees her room intact, that she doesn't hear the edge to Mother's voice soon enough.

 

She nods because she doesn’t know what else to say. Here she won’t be a financial burden, she thinks as she goes over the items she left behind. 

 

“How could you have left _me_ , Regina?” And the brunette freezes because she hears it then, Mother's cold voice. Although her voice is still sweet, her words are sharp.

 

She turns, halfway in her room and sees Mother with her arms limply by her side. 

 

“I’m sorry,” she says out of reflex and Mother’s nostril flare, nothing of her previous softness present. 

 

*

 

Emma’s the only one bothering to whisper. She’s finally gotten Henry to sleep soundly after his fit and she doesn’t have the energy to soothe another one. 

 

“No, we think this through. We make a _plan_ , and _then_ head over there!” Ruby sits in the kitchen island where Emma sitting and August tightens his crossed arms over his chest from his position on the wall. 

 

“She could hurt her by then!” He pushes himself off the wall and Ruby stands up again, matching his angry stance.

 

“What are you gonna do when she tries something, huh? You’re not a cop over there, you can’t flash that badge!”

 

“Ruby-“

 

“No! This is _Regina_ we’re talking about and I’m not about to go on a half assed mission to rescue her when so many things could go wrong. She deserves for us to _think this through_ and actually succeed!”

 

“She doesn’t _want_ us to succeed, Ruby!” Emma finally speak up again, her hands clutching her bowed head. She looks up with red-rimmed eyes and shakes her head. 

 

*

 

“Do you know the _embarrassment_ I went through, having to explain your little stunt to the town?” Mother walks forward and Regina’s feet refuse to move, she’s standing frozen as Mother advances menacingly.

 

“No-“

 

“I had to lie, I had to create excuses for my pathetic daughter!” Regina shakes her head and tries opening her mouth to speak again.

 

Mother’s hand wraps around her arm and her nails dig in painfully.

 

“You said you wouldn’t-“ Regina gasps out, her feet finally moving her backwards. 

 

Mother hauls her forward by the arm and Regina feels her shoulder pop.

 

“

 

“She _wants_ to be with Cora,” Emma repeats and the kitchen goes silent.

 

August clenches his jaw and looks away from her, his eyes suspiciously wet. 

 

Ruby drums her fingers against the table and lays a hand on her shoulder, the heavy weight comforting. 

 

“Yeah, but that’s only ‘cause Cora’s a psychopath who knows how to play her daughter,” Ruby whispers and Emma sees August nod.

 

“What do we _do_ , then?” Emma whispers back, her voice nearly cracking with emotion. 

 

*

 

“Mother-“

 

“Do you know the deals I had to make to get you where you are? To get us this lifestyle? And you just wanted to throw it away like an _ungrateful brat_?” Mother’s voice rises and her grip tightens.

 

Blood wells up under the older woman’s finger nails and Regina pushes off her, staggering back awkwardly.

 

“You’re not allowed to leave, _again_.” Mother reaches forward, crowding into Regina’s face and she’s about to strike when Regina takes another step back, her back hitting the wall.

 

*

 

Emma looks up at Ruby, the brunette tapping her foot nervously. August joins her and soon they’re both crossing their arms and looking at the waitress expectantly.

 

“Are you coming or not?” Emma spits out, impatient to get going.

 

“You’re serious about this? Did you not hear _literally_ everything I just said!?” Ruby throws her arms up in the air again, Emma glances at August.

 

“You give me the word and I’m there,” he reassures and Emma leaves a sputtering Ruby in the kitchen to pack a bag.

 

“You can’t- oh, my god, _listen_ to me!” Ruby starts after her, following her into the room. 

 

“She has to know she’s got options, Rubes. Other than that stupid woman.” Emma grumbles, tossing mismatched socks and sweaters into a duffel bag. She chooses a few of Henry’s onesies and turns to her dresser.

 

Ruby stares at her with wild and unbelieving eyes as she takes out underwear from a few drawers. 

 

When Emma doesn’t elaborate, Ruby growls and shifts in place. 

 

“How are we leaving?”

 

*

 

“Did I deserve you leaving me, Regina?” And Mother’s voice is so frigid and hard that Regina’s heart stumbles on a beat. She shakes her head but Mother’s advancing towards her again.

 

Back straight against the wall, Regina feels like she’s ten years old and powerless, not the nineteen year old woman she’s become. 

 

A wrinkled hand rises fast and Regina sees Emma’s warm face before a palm connects sharply with her wet cheek. 

 

*

 

“We could fly, it’s faster.” Brown eyes flicker over to the two girls packing. 

 

“Yeah, let’s drop almost two grand on four tickets,” Emma scoffs.

 

“We could drive?” Ruby offers.

 

“In the _bug_?”

 

“ _Hey_ -“

 

“I’m pretty sure we’re supposed to be alive before we _arrive_ -“

 

“We’d get there by morning, kinda.” Ruby interrupts, zipping up her own bag and tossing it to the front door.

 

Emma and August share a look and the older man places his palms up and shrugs. 

 

“Let’s go, then.”

 

*

 

“I didn’t mean to, darling.” Mother says resolutely, leaning against her bedroom doorway. 

 

Regina doesn’t turn from her window, just tightens the covers around her shoulders. Mother’s words act as balm to her sore cheek and Regina finds her heart quieting down. 

 

“I know, Mother,” she says, even if she feels so out of place in her old bed.

 

“You make me so frustrated, dear. I couldn’t help it.” Regina shuts her eyes and tries not to let the words affect her.

 

_It’s her fault._

 

“Of course, Mother.”

 

Cora leaves the door open and Regina blinks back the tears she’s feeling. It’s so odd, being back in the place she swore she’d never return. 

 

But Mother is trying, Mother _wants_ to be better, so Regina wills her tears to retreat and let her sleep.

 

*

 

She doesn’t fall asleep, not because she’s isn’t tired, because she _is_ , but because she realizes she’s waiting for Emma to drop roughy next to her, drooling and snoring as soon as her head hits the pillow. 

 

She’s a fool, she thinks, half her mind reprimanding her for leaving the cramped apartment. She’s wrapping her mind around the fact that she might not see Henry’s dimpled face, not after she promised the blonde she wouldn’t leave, when the tears starts.

 

She didn’t mean to leave, she had walked up to her Mother with the resolute determination to tell her to go to hell, when she’d faltered and fallen straight into one of Mother’s games. 

 

She’s tired of maneuvering her way through Mother’s mine fields and yet, she’s back to the home she never wanted to step foot in again. One last chance, her mind whispers, because what’s the point of not trying when she could be better for Mother, when they could work perfectly together to build a relationship?

 

Still, there’s a grip around her heart that feels a lot like guilt, for leaving Emma, for leaving tiny Henry and it breaks her heart, makes her dig her nails into her thigh when she realizes she’s left the boy behind. 

 

She’s a fool for Mother’s love, she realizes and she thinks she’s about to crack in half with the pain of it when there’s a tentative knock.

 

*

 

“You’re just gonna- you're gonna climb a _window_?” Ruby whispers, staring at the huge house a little down the driveway.

 

It’s barely past four and none of them know how they arrived so fast without nearly killing each other (and other cars) in the process, but bleary eyed and tired, they arrived. 

 

“Well, you're the one that said I couldn’t just _knock_ ,” Emma whispers back, her hands sweating at the sight of the house, the moon shining down on it ominously. 

 

“Get on with it, then.” August mumbles, looking around for any sign of them being spotted. 

 

Emma nods and soon, she's climbing out the door and crawling through shadows, trying to see where Regina's room might be. There's no lights on in the house and Emma’s half afraid she might stumble across a sleeping Cora in her search. 

 

Steeling her nerves, Emma rounds the house and, seeing no large windows in the back, jumps the fence to face the house again. 

 

There’s a tree directly in front of one of the windows and wiping her hands on her black yoga pants, Emma begins climbing it, praying that her intuition is right and Regina's right inside the window.

 

A branch snaps under her weight and she waits a full five minutes before she begins moving up again, ignoring the leaves in her cheeks and the dirt under her hands. 

 

She peers over the window sill and curses silently when her hair falls over her eyes. She’s swiping it out of the way when her heart jumps to her throat and she almost looses her balance on the tree.

 

She can’t see much, especially because she forgot her glasses on the kitchen counter in her rush to get to Regina, but she can see familiar brown hair, curled to perfection, and she can make out a sharp nose against the shadows in the room. 

 

She bites her lips and readjusts her footing, leaning forward precariously to rasp her knuckles against the cold window. 

 

She sees Regina startle, jumping in bed and she bites her cheek to keep from grinning madly. 

 

Crouching by the window, she tries to hide as much as possible when Regina’s bare feet hit the floor next to her bed. She can’t stop smiling like a fool, leaves brushing her hair and making her nose twitch, she’s just never been this excited to see the brunette again. 

 

Red rimmed eyes peer over the window and Emma bounces up, startling Regina so much she nearly trips backwards and into the floor. 

 

*

 

“Emma!” Regina hisses, throwing the window open slowly. “What- how the hell?” 

 

She lets her in, and Emma stumbles through the window sill, making a racket. Holding her steady and helping her through, Regina’s heart beats wildly in her chest.

 

“Hi,” the blonde says, waving a little as her feet hit the ground. 

 

She travels her yes over the blonde’s figure and she almost cracks a smile as she realizes she’s wearing all black, complete with the black beanie.

 

“ _Hi_?” Regina repeats, nearly laughing, her voice bordering on hysterical. “That’s a- I _left_ you and that’s _all_ you have to say?”

 

Emma’s frowning at her and Regina has the inexplicable desire to envelope her in a tight hug.

 

“Well, what do you _want_ me to say?” Emma questions, arms crossing over her chest.

 

“I don’t know! That you hate me?”

 

“What? That’s- that’s so dumb, ‘gina.”

 

The nickname slips out of Emma’s mouth and she nearly cries at the sound of it. She’s barely been half a day away from Emma, hasn’t seen her since she left her dumbfounded in the middle of their tiny kitchen, but still she’s aching with loss. 

 

Emma should hate her, shouldn’t be here looking at her pleadingly and with such soft eyes, but she is and suddenly, Regina surges forward and wraps skinny arms around the blonde’s shoulders. 

 

Emma catches her with ease, arms immediately enveloping her and Regina lets her tears dampen Emma’s sweater.

 

“I’m sorry,” she cries into her shoulder, something she’s been saying aplenty lately, and Emma shakes her head. “I’m sorry I left you,” she repeats because Emma didn’t deserve the abandonment or the short notice. 

 

Emma disentangles from her and separates enough to look directly into her eyes.

 

“I’m fucking pissed, Regina,” she starts and the brunette straightens out, “but we can talk about that later.” 

 

And it clicks inside her mind that Emma’s not here to hear an apology but to take her away and suddenly there’s panic seizing her chest.

 

“Later?”

 

“Well, _duh_. We- look, Regina. I know you want to be here, alright? And that you think your mom will change but-“ she takes a deep breath and Regina’s mind reels. “But I just wanted to tell you that I don’t think she’ll change.”

 

Regina shakes her head and takes a step back. Emma’s arms drop silently to her side and stares at her with wide eyes.

 

“Emma-“

 

“And that you deserve ten times better than what she’s doing, alright? You might not believe it, but _I_ do. And that yeah, I’m _pissed_ because I was so fucking worried, but I get it, okay? _I get it_.”

 

She grows silent then, eyebrows disappearing into her beanie with how intently she’s looking at Regina. 

 

They breathe together before Emma takes a tentative step forward. 

 

“And also, I’m here because I missed you and I’m asking you to come back home.” Emma’s voice catch at the last word and Regina takes a step forward, her chest nearly brushing the blonde’s.

 

“I don-“

 

Emma shakes her head and wraps a hand around Regina’s elbows, soft and reassuring. “You don’t have to like, get up and leave now. You don’t even have to leave if you don’t want to,” Emma looks at her so painfully resigned, “but I want you to have a choice, okay?”

 

There’s movement somewhere in the house because floorboards creak and sheets are rustled and Regina’s heart jumps at the thought of Mother finding Emma. She can live with Mother’s hands gripping tightly around her skin, but never, never Emma’s.

 

“You have to go,” she whispers, taking Emma’s hand and dragging her to the window. “Please, she’ll hear you.”

 

“Regina, ju-“

 

“I want to leave,” she rushes out before she can take it back. She shouldn’t be afraid of mothers waking up in the middle of the night and with that thought, she asks Emma to come back the next night.

 

Emma smiles brightly at her, showing off all her teeth and dimpling her cheeks. Regina stares a little too long and before she can back out, she leans in and drops a lingering kiss to the corner of Emma’s lips. 

 

“Tonight,” the blonde promises before slipping out the window. 

 

*

 

She falls into her old routine easily enough, showers and applies a full face of make-up before seven in the morning. She thinks Emma climbing her window must have been a dream, but she can still feel the way Emma’s lips had upturned against her cheeks.

 

She can’t hide the bruise on her cheek with the make up she has, but she can make it appear less livid. Mother seems pleased when she comes down the stairs and she slips her a cup of coffee, too strong, too hot, and smiles widely at her.

 

“I thought we had fixed your little problem, Regina.”

 

She stills just as she’s setting the cup down and Regina feels a shudder go down her spine.

 

“What do you mean, Mother?” She asks innocently, as if her cheek isn’t burning or her ribs hurting.

 

“This girl, this _Emma_. You love her.”

 

Mother is staring at her too knowingly, eyes bright and menacing. She thinks of the floor boards creaking outside her door late last night, just before she kissed Emma, and suddenly, she’s afraid, gripping her cup.

 

“Of course not,” she scoffs, meeting Mother’s eyes. 

 

“Oh,” she tisks, tilting her head and spreading her lips into a wide smile, ignoring her answer. “I was hoping you didn’t Regina. That boy of hers is _quite_ adorable.”

 

She’s familiar with Mother’s threats but they’ve always been addressed to her, always been directed to hurt _Regina_. Now, as she think of Henry’s dimpled cheeks, Regina’s blood runs cold.

 

“I’ll ask again.” Mother smiles impossibly wider, “Do you love her _enough_?”

 

She keeps her face free from emotion, sits as straight as she can and lets her blood hum in her ears. She feels like throwing up, feels like her entire world is tilting dangerously. 

 

“Yes,” she says sharply, her ribs expanding.

 

“I trust I’ll see you tonight, Regina.”

 

Mother rounds the counter and drops a cold kiss to her forehead.

 

She sits there for a long while, coffee growing cold as she imagines Mother’s hands wrapped around Emma’s pale neck. 

 

*

 

She sits gingerly on the bed and faces the window with a blank face, her heart lodged in her throat. Her back is rigid, has to sit straight so as not to strain the bruises on her ribs. The sun dips and dips until it falls dead to the ground, the bright moon rising slowly, until it illuminates her room in hues of black. 

 

That’s when she comes, dark clothes and an impish smile, vibrating with energy.

 

She climbs the window quietly, converse not making a single sound as they land on the hardwood floor. With a triumphant smile, the blonde looks up.

 

Regina prepares her mind, knows she’ll receive a wounded look when Emma notices there’s no packed bags stacked together, ready to leave. Her posters are still hung up, her hair brush neatly placed on top of her dresser, drawers full of her clothes. 

 

Still, she flinches when Emma’s eyes dull, her previous excitement simpering into a hazy cloud of hurt. 

 

“Regina?” she whispers, because if Emma is good at something, it’s questioning the brunette. 

 

“You need to leave,” she keeps her voice detached, sounding disgustingly so like Mother, and she sees Emma falter in her steps.

 

“Hey, _no_ \- come on. What’s wrong?”

 

“What’s wrong is that I don’t want to leave. I want to stay _here_.” She’s hoping a direct and impersonal response will make Emma understand but the only thing that crosses the blonde’s pale face is pain. 

 

“But you said-“ she takes a tentative step forward, still hopeful.

 

“I know what I said, but I was _wrong_.” She digs her nails into her thigh. 

 

“I’m not leaving without you.” Emma sets her jaw stubbornly, her eyes glinting dangerously.

 

“You’ll leave, one way or another.” Her nails draw blood, the bitter smell filling the room. “No matter how much you wish it to be true, you’re not more important than my _family_.”

 

Her aim is true, and Emma crumples right before her eyes. 

 

She’s _brilliant_ at this, molding herself into what Mother wants her to be, and right now, she wants her to be standoffish enough to make the blonde hate her. But Regina’s reasons are much more important than that. She needs the blonde to leave before it’s too late, she thinks while her eyes dart to the window. She doesn’t know what Mother’s planned but she knows she can stop it if only Emma _listens_. 

 

“Bullshit.” Emma’s voice cracks and she steps forward.

 

“This is not the time for you to be hard-headed, Miss Swan. You need to _leave_.” She’s getting more frantic now, she can hear the staircase creaking. Still, she can’t break from script, so she mouths a desperate _please_.

 

“I’m not leaving without you. You and me, Regina we’re a team, no matter what bullshit that woman feeds you.”

 

She shakes her head, and when Emma takes another step forward, loud sirens are heard in the distance. 

 

Emma pays them no mind but Regina’s eyes grow wide. She jumps up and pushes at Emma frantically, tugging at her arm until they’re both standing by the window. 

 

“Leave, _leave now,”_ she hisses, tears in her eyes.

 

Emma locks her jaw and shakes her head slowly. 

 

“You don’t understand-“ Regina gasps, can see red and blue lights now and only then does Emma turn to see the police car speeding down the neighborhood. 

 

“Get out of here!” She yells out the window and for a ridiculous second Regina thinks she’s fighting with the police, but then she sees shadows moving through the lawn and then disappear next door, unseen by the officers exiting the car. 

 

Emma moves, fast and with agility but she’s too slow, too considerate to throw Regina one last wounded look, when her bedroom door bursts open.

 

Guns held high and flashlights blinding her, Regina only sees a flash of blonde as Emma keeps fighting back, keeps moving. They’re at her side in an instant, men grabbing her by the arms and pinning her down, her face flat against the ground, squirming against the cop’s knee on her back.

 

“Regina!” She screams, voice hoarse and thick with fear. 

 

“I- I,” Mother appears in the doorway and Regina _freezes_ , hands helplessly reaching out to Emma. She sees her looking up from the ground, head still pressed to the ground. 

 

“Ma’m, do you know her?” One officer with grey hair asks, and Emma _begs_ with her eyes.

 

“Ye- I-“

 

“Of course she doesn’t, Officer.” Mother stands primly by the side of the door.

 

“No, I-“

 

“So you _don’t_ know her?” 

 

They’ve got it all _wrong_ , they’re _twisting_ her words without her permission and Emma’s eyes are growing duller and duller every second; she shakes her head to clear her head.

 

“ _Regina_!” Emma cries as she’s hauled to her feet, face red and scared. “Tell them you know me, Re- _Regina_!” Her voice rips through her room, shakes through her very core.

 

Green eyes are wild like she’s never seen them, pale hands struggling against handcuffs. There’s a feral horror framing the blonde and she steps forward just as they pass the doorway, calling out. 

 

They don’t _understand_ , of course she knows her, she’s _hers_.  

 

They’re down the stairs in an instant, Emma twisting to look at her on the bottom floor and something clicks inside her brain.

 

_Emma Emma Emma Emma_

 

She doesn’t think, doesn’t breathe, just runs to where Emma’s waiting for her to save her, and she _almost_ makes it to the railing, hands reaching out to stop the men in uniforms. 

 

Mother’s faster, always has been, and she wraps two strong arms around her waist, digging her elbows against Regina’s ribs. 

 

Pain flares up but she fights, kicks and strains forward in agony as her feet lift from the ground. 

 

She’s crying, she knows she is because her lips are wet as she screams and screams for Mother to release her, screaming she’ll be good if only she lets her see blonde hair one last time, but Mother only grips harder, making her ribs crack or snap, she doesn’t know.

 

She can’t breathe, can’t see anything but Emma’s horrified eyes begging for help from the floor, can’t feel anything but the way her mouth had frozen when Emma needed her.

 

She can’t breathe, not when the cruiser pulls out of the driveway, not when Mother places her all too gently on the floor, caresses her hair as she screams her throat hoarse.

 

Tucked firmly against Mother’s grip, she thinks she fits better in Emma’s arms. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, so! if you made this far, because i realize it was an incredibly long chapter, i just want to emphasize that this is a story heavily based on abuse and that swan queen is suuuper slow burn and i'm sorry bout that but i wanted to explore regina plus abuse, while slowly incorporating emma, you know? 
> 
> anyways, thanks for reading, let me know what you think please!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been so long, and I'm sorry it's a short chapter! I'll try to update again soon!

She stops trying to bring her back. 

 

Regina, singing in Spanish while she curls her hair.

 

Regina, leaving black bobby pins in the kitchen counter and stealing Emma’s clothes.

 

Regina, not entirely happy but trying her hardest to be safe.

 

Regina, gone.

 

_*_

 

_Chubby legs spill out of the diaper Henry’s sporting as he runs away with a shrill, having long gone wiggled out of his pants and discarded them behind the couch._

 

_It’s cold in the apartment, (something about the heater not working, August had declared, hands on his hips and a pout big enough to rival Henry’s) and Emma’s been chasing Henry for the past ten minutes, beanie-clad and scarf wrapped tightly around her neck as she tries to put his pants back on, but the boy is_ _fast._

 

_Still, Emma doesn’t try too hard because she’s enjoying the way Henry falls flat on his bottom, turning wide eyes to the blonde before scrambling away in fear of his green pants._

 

_Regina’s been watching from the couch where she’s supposed to be revising one of Emma’s essays, her entire frame wrapped in the bed’s comforter as she tries to read in vain. She’s having trouble concentrating with all the screaming and laughing and finally, she puts the laptop down and joins Emma in running dramatically slow behind chubby legs._

 

_They pass the kitchen, a pleasant odor coming from the stove August is hovering over. Ruby is peering repeatedly over his shoulder as she tries to add more salt and she turns her head when Henry makes a sharp right and stumbles into the kitchen._

 

_He wobbles behind long legs and Emma drops to the floor, crawls on her elbows until Henry’s running again, realizing his hiding spot behind the giggling brunette is shot. He steps on black boots and bare toes as he tries escaping._

 

_Regina follows him out of the kitchen with a wide smile on her face and she can see the beginning of his leg quiver; he’s going to topple over soon. Henry is_ _still_ _laughing madly, his arms flailing as he tries to run in the cramped apartment. They pass the bathroom and Regina can hear his heavy breathing and his laughter mixing into one shrill note. She catches him just as he’s going to fall on his face and scoops him up, bringing him high in the air before settling squirming legs against her hip._

 

_His hands go to her hair, always her hair, and she places big wet kisses on his cheeks until he frames her face with two small hands and sticks his tongue out, making it shake and blow spit everywhere, coating her nose and cheeks. His brown eyes shine happily and she laughs, wiping the spit away._

 

_Regina’s never been so happy._

 

She’s waiting for the copy machine to spit out the three hundred paper document Mr. Gold needs when the memory hits. It’s a slow day at the firm, with Mother locked inside her wide office speaking to a client and everybody avoiding her within a ten foot radius. The weekend is almost here and she’s eager to leave the empty office. The only one who talks to her is Gold, and that’s only to demand more documents and papers with his all too knowing eyes and small smirk. 

 

It’s getting harder, forgetting Henry. 

 

She doesn’t want to let his dimpled face leave her mind but every time she thinks of him, of green eyes and chapped lips, her heart shrivels and her hands run cold. She should be grateful, she thinks, that instead of having Mother’s cruel eyes make her heart stop, it’s now warm brown eyes that make everything seem heavier and slower. 

 

She misses him and his mother and she can’t help but think how incredibly stupid it was that she left because she missed Mother, and how now she misses something even warmer, _safer_.

 

The copy machine spits out the last paper and she blinks slowly, gathers them in her arms, and readjusts her skirt.

 

Sighing, she tries not to think of blond hair and the hoodie hidden at the very back of her closet.

 

*

 

There’s a bruise on her left knee, dark in the middle with tiny red veins sprouting all around it. Emma pokes at it with her pinky, grimaces at the slight pain, then presses the pad of her finger against it. 

 

“Em.”

 

Her skin dimples uncomfortably and she lets the slight pain bring focus to her hazy mind. Lifting her finger, her skin bounces back up. She stares at the dark spot with something akin to hate and only then does she hear Ruby’s exasperated sigh. 

 

“Huh?”

 

“I _said_ , we have to leave soon if we want to make it to the movie on time.”

 

“Oh. Sure.” She untangles her legs from her position on the kitchen chair, her underwear clad bottom going numb at being in the same position for too long. Taking a sip from her coffee, she spits it right back when the cold liquid hits her tongue. 

 

Ruby only shakes her head and pats her bare knee, looking at her like she’s been doing these past days: all big eyes and tight smiles. 

 

She can feel Ruby’s eyes on her as she stands and makes her way to her kid. August is sprawled on the living room floor, Henry bouncing on his stomach as they watch a certain someone’s ridiculously dramatic _novelas_.

 

He lifts his head when she enters and offers her a brittle smile before taking the cushion behind his head and throwing it at her legs. 

 

“Put some clothes on, perv.” There’s not much emotion behind it and he turns back to the TV again, one hand on Henry’s back and the other behind his head.

 

She picks her baby up, hoists him on her hip and blows raspberries on his cheeks until he’s the only one giggling and wrapping sticky fingers around her braid. 

 

“Let’s go, munchkin.”

 

Ruby’s right behind her in an instant, tutting loudly as she catches what August is watching and neither of them move to stop her when she takes the control and turns it off with a huff. There’s a wide smile on her face, too many teeth that stink of desperation and she claps her hands loudly as she shoos everybody to get ready. 

 

“It’ll be fun!”

 

(They haven’t left the apartment since they came back, bleary eyed with Emma’s wrists burning with shame.)

 

Ruby’s smile strains when August grunts as he picks himself off the floor, looking dejected and too tired. His belt is absent of his badge, hasn’t brought it to the apartment in the week that followed Storybrooke. 

 

Emma wraps a hand around Ruby’s elbow and squeezes once; the brunette’s smile widens in an instant.

 

“It’ll be fun,” the blonde she repeats a little too softly and passes by the two dark haired people in their small living room. 

 

She does what she’s told and puts pants on, throws a hoodie on and wraps Henry tightly in as many layers as she dares. She ignores the clothes folded neatly on the right side of the closet, kicks black boots under the bed as she turns off the light and leaves for a night of _fun_.

 

*

 

The pink fabric is _ghastly_. 

 

It’s too loose around her thin legs and makes her dark skin look unhealthy in the dim light. She runs a hand down the smooth fabric of her skirt and tries not to let it bother her that her nail polish, now a light nude to please Mother, looks even worse against the skirt. Mother clears her throat and Regina tries to listen to what the man upfront is saying but she’s entirely focused on how disappointing it is that her nails are no longer painted black.

 

(“Black matches _everything_ ,” Ruby had said, nodding her head as she bent over Regina’s toes. “It’s important you match your nails to your outfit, I read it somewhere.”

 

Emma had snorted at the same time Regina nodded amusingly; Ruby carefully applied a second coat to her pinky nail. 

 

“Of course, Emma never had trouble matching cause all she’d ever wear when I met her was _black_.” the brunette had deadpanned and Emma had thrown a cushion in their general direction, hitting Ruby straight in the face.

 

Regina had giggled as Ruby’s hand had jerked and black polish had smeared against their living room floor.)

 

A hand shoots out to stop her hands smoothing out her stupid skirt and she freezes. 

 

“We _do not_ cross our knees, Regina.” Her legs disentangle without her permission and she’s crossing her ankles without further reprimanding, her heels sitting primly against the church’s floor. 

 

“Good girl,” Mother whispers and a small smile tugs at Regina’s lips until she remembers where she’s at. 

 

The priest up front drones monotonously and she doesn’t listen to a word of it. She’s sure Mother’s not listening as well, merely staring in the general direction and politely nodding. 

 

It’s supposed to be a gift, being able to be back in the old church with the familiar dark lights andcrucified, bloody Christ’s everywhere. A sign that Mother’s trying to make Regina happy. Instead, Regina finds that she can only stomach the abundant amount of statues and crucifixes when it’s Daddy by her side, murmuring Spanish words in her ears as she stifles back giggles. 

 

She sits up straighter, blows air through her nose and misses Daddy next to her during Sunday mass.

 

Regina hasn’t seen him in the week she’s been back and Mother will only shake her head and say he’s away at work, but Regina’s _back_ , she’s left everything (every _one_ her mind betrays) she loved back in the busy city and her father should damn well be here. 

 

She hasn’t seen anybody, not Killian or Abigail, nobody’s come by the house to see why Cora’s child is back after months of absence. 

 

She knows Mother’s behind this but she’s tired of fighting for the smallest inch to budge and she’d rather keep wearing pink skirts and lipstick if Mother will allow her to leave the house again.

 

The priest gives the order to stand and Regina plasters on a smile as she shakes Mother’s hand in peace offering, kissing her chastely on her cheek and wishing she didn’t flinch quite so hard when Mother’s hand wraps around her elbow. 

 

*

 

“I really liked the soundtrack, at least. I mean, it could have been a little more upbeat but it was good, right?” Ruby says, her fingers drumming against the steering wheel as she glances at Emma. 

 

“I dunno,” she shrugs, trying not to stare out the window and tune out her friend. 

 

August makes a noncommittal sound from the backseat and Emma turns to see that he has his knees proper against the seat in front of him and his eyes are wielded shut. 

 

Ruby hums, the same smile plastered on her face for the past week making her teeth shine as headlights pass over and over. 

 

“I liked it,” Ruby chirps, jumping a little as she says it, as if she’a extremely pleased to see a mediocre movie in a dingy theater with no popcorn and a sappy storyline. “You liked it, right, Em?

 

The car stays quiet.

 

She’s back to staring out the window and rubbing her wrists absently, the red lines almost imperceptible now.

 

She just- she doesn’t _know_. She’s jumbled and tired and she didn’t have trouble sleeping before Regina came to town with her stupid expensive leather bag and suede boots and her fancy lip glosses. 

 

She doesn’t know.

 

What _it_ is that she doesn’t know, well, she doesn’t know that either, she just feels as if her life is a big _I don’t know_ and there’s nowhere explicit to look for the answers. Maybe if Regina were here, with her vast and creepy knowledge of things, she’d figure out why it is that she feels like all her veins are tangled together and why she can’t feel her heart beat and why it is that she started seeing Regina in Henry’s dark eyes. 

 

She just- she doesn’t _know_.

 

August swats at her shoulder and she startles. Turning in her seat, she sees his expectant eyes and slack mouth. He tilts his head to Ruby’s direction and Emma follows, swallowing hard.

 

“It was good, Ruby. You chose- it was a good movie,” she says lamely, now noticing how white the girl’s knuckles have gotten, her fingers tight across the worn leather of the steering wheel. Her smile is still in place, large and showy but it’s strained and painful and Emma places a hand on her forearm. 

 

“Yeah, it was like-,” August flounders, clearing his throat. “I liked the part about the dogs.”

 

Emma closes her eyes and her hand falls from Ruby’s heated skin, because- _idiot_. Although she wasn’t paying attention or listening to the movie at all, she knows there weren’t any dogs.

 

Ruby’s smile falters, there’s a twitch at the corner of her lips and August swallows. The car swerves to the side of the road and Ruby slams the brake, skidding the car to a stop. Emma looks back, her hands reaching to see little Henry sleeping peacefully in his car seat, August holding on tight to the back of the seat.

 

There’s a look of full panic on his face, his eyes are wide and alternating between looking at Emma’s equally confused and scared eyes and the back of Ruby’s seat.

 

Her son safe, Emma turns in her seat and stares at a still Ruby.

 

Her smile is gone, _(finally finally finally,_ Emma’s mind whispers) and she’s staring straight ahead, her nose going red. Her chin is wobbling and she’s blinking all too fast for it to be normal and Emma feels a tickling at the back of her nose, her tired body instantly making her respond with tears. 

 

“Rubes,” the blonde breaks the silence and Ruby slams a palm against the steering wheel, her hair flying forward with the force of the blow.

 

She’s trying oh so hard not to cry and with trembling fingers, Emma realizes Ruby hasn’t cried in the week that followed Storybrooke. 

 

(Emma had cried in the back seat, hiding underneath the window as the sun shined all too brightly for her pleasure, her back hurting and her throat itching. She’d rub her wrists over and over, the red marks noticeable against her pale skin, swollen and raw and so, _so_ angry that she knew just how many days it would take for the marks to disappear. 

 

She remembered Regina’s hand reaching out, tan and trembling but reaching out all the same as she’d been dragged away. 

 

The feeling of cold tile under her cheek as she looked up to terrified eyes is still _there_ , she feels cold cold cold all of the time and it doesn’t help that Regina’s taken her favorite hoodie and her favorite person and her favorite laugh and her second favorite brown eyes. It doesn’t help.

 

She’d cried, but Ruby hadn’t, she’s smoothed a hand over her forehead and buckled her baby in, making sure to drive carefully so as not to wake Henry, and she’s stopped at every stop sign and made sure they had gas, Ruby had driven all afternoon and August had glanced back at Emma, white-knuckled and feeling the weight of hearing his only sister break in the backseat of the bug.

 

He’d made calls, too many to count and his voice had turned hoarse by the time he let himself bend over in the passenger seat, his shaking hand pressed over his mouth. Ruby had placed a gentle hand on his back somewhere along hour eight, letting him tremble beneath her fingers and stain his knees with silent tears. 

 

Emma had cried and August had shaken, but Ruby- Ruby just drove.)

 

“Ruby,” Emma tries again, her voice soft. 

 

The brunette lets out a choked laugh and smoothes her hair back, tucking a stray hair behind her ear with shaking hands. 

 

“I’m okay,” Ruby says, her voice tight and eyes wet, “I’m okay,” she repeats a little more weakly, running the back of her hand under her nose. 

 

Emma’s eyes meet August and he stares back, wide eyes illuminated by the passing headlights.

 

She turns back to Ruby and sees her touch the tips of her finger to her temple as if to settle her mind. Emma places a hand on the brunette’s arm again and Ruby’s shrinks into herself.

 

*

 

“It’s better this way, darling,” Mother repeats for the tenth time that week, one hand running through Regina’s thick hair. “ _We_ are better this way.”

 

And it’s true.

 

At least that’s what her mind instantly says, agreeing and curling up closer to Mother’s shoulder as they sit together on the couch, a rare evening where neither have anything to do. But there’s something tugging at the back of her head that makes the base of her skull itch annoyingly so, that says this isn’t right, _this isn’t safe_. 

 

She ignores it as best as she can because Mother is _trying_ , Mother _loves_ her. 

 

_She loves me, she loves me_ , she repeats. Mother’s hands are soft and quiet and welcomed. 

 

*

 

Headlights shine across Ruby’s pale face, creating shadows for one brief second before disappearing again. Twelve cars pass before Ruby’s face cracks- Emma’s counting because she can’t do much of anything else.

 

Henry is asleep and August is breathing as quietly as possible and Emma feels like she’s two seconds away from killing someone from the tightness she feels on her chest. Her hand is wrapped clumsily around Ruby’s arm and she’s drawing circles with her thumb, feeling absolutely helpless.

 

“She’s a _bitch_ ,” Ruby hisses but the effect is lost because her nose is running and her throat sounds constricted. “A _dumb_ bitch and I wish she never made me care for her.”

 

August swallows loudly and Emma has no fucking clue what to do.

 

“Rubes,” August mumbles, leaning forward to prop his chin on the back of the brunette’s seat. 

 

Ruby spins in her seat and faces August angrily, “She sent Emma to _jail_ , you can’t- there’s no- don’t _defend_ her!”

 

“I’m not!” August leans back and places his palms up, but his eyes are flicking to Emma’s frozen form. “I’m not, but-“

 

“But nothing!” Ruby shrieks and Emma’s pretty sure Henry’s pretending to be asleep now so he doesn’t have to deal with all the yelling. 

 

Ruby’s chest is heaving and August’s eyes are flashing and Emma just wanted to forget everything and anything that had to do with stupid Regina. Her hands are shaking; she balls them into fists and sticks them in the pocket of her hoodie, watching the scene unfold as quietly as she can.

 

“Rubes-“ August licks his lips, “she wouldn’t have left if she didn’t have reason to.”

 

“She left because she’s weak and stupid and she wanted us to fucking _hurt_ ,” Ruby spits out but there’s fresh tears in her eyes and her nose is wriggling with the effort not to sob. 

 

Emma wants to agree, wants to hate Regina and send her straight to hell for doing this to her. She wraps the sleeve of her hoodie around her fist and twists until the fabric is taut and stretched too far. 

 

“You can’t be serious,” August deadpans. It’s the first time they talk about anything relating Regina and Emma’s not _ready_. “She wouldn’t have left if she didn’t think it was right, if she didn’t think it’d be good for her.”

 

“Her mom _isn’t_ good for her!”

 

“Well, _we_ fucking know that, Ruby! But she doesn’t and now she’s back there!” August points out the window with a sharp finger and the corner of his eyes are tight as he tries to compose himself. 

 

“No,” Emma speaks up, her voice too loud. “She _knows_ her mom’s no good. She just doesn’t care.” Ruby’s looking at her with wide, glossy eyes and Emma twists her sleeve even further. 

 

August stays quiet after that, and Ruby slumps in her seat, sniffling quietly. Henry snores in the backseat.

 

Emma gives herself one selfish moment of weakness and allows herself to hate Regina. 

 

*

 

Missing Emma feels like a privilege.

 

Killian comes back in the middle of the second week. He taps on her window at 3:15 in the morning and for one delirious moment, Regina thinks Emma’s come back. 

 

When she sees raven hair and a devilish smirk, she curls her bare toes on the cold tile and breathes to five before she opens the window. 

 

“I heard you were back,” Killian lands soundlessly on the floor and wraps a clumsy arm around her shoulders. She feels lips pressed to her temple and the back of her nose prickles with tears. 

 

“Yes,” she mumbles out and takes in how his cheeks are red from the cold and how he’s wearing the same jacket she saw him last. He looks good, perfectly content to be sneaking around in the devil’s home. 

 

“Where’s Emma?” He asks, and Regina’s not sure if he plunged his hand in her chest and yanked until she bled dry, or if her heart actually stopped for a second. 

 

“Back in New York.” His arm is still around her shoulders and at that, he disentangles himself and places both hands on her skinny shoulders. 

 

“I thought she was taking care of you?” His eyes are too knowing and too kind, so she shoves off him and wraps her robe around her slim figure even tighter. 

 

“I couldn’t stay for long, you know that,” her voice cracks and she’s sure she’s going to cry herself to sleep once he leaves. He’s a stark reminder that she failed at what she was once very eager to do: leave for good. 

 

“I thought I’d never see you in this town again,” he leans against the window, ready for a quick escape. “Emma didn’t do a good job?”

 

She knows what he’s doing, even if she hasn’t talked to him since she left him behind in the bus station and he doesn’t know just how much she enjoyed New York and the people she left there. She feels naked all of a sudden, like it’s written in her skin just how painful it is to remember waking up in the same bed as Emma, Henry snuggled in to her side.

 

Killian smirks at her and she swallows roughly.

 

“Last I heard, she was hidin’ you from your mom. Fine job she did, huh?” He pushes off the wall and she presses her thumb nail into her palm. 

 

“It isn’t her fault,” she says and sits at the edge of her bed because she feels like she’s about to collapse from the pain of it all. 

 

He frowns at her then, and it feels like he’s finally seeing her for the first time. 

 

“Well, whose fault is it?”

 

She thinks of Mother’s arms around her as Emma was hauled through the front door, and she thinks of the days that passed in between the pain and the clarity. 

 

“Mine,” she says distractedly. 

 

(Emma would scoff and punch her roughly on the shoulder before she’d retreat sheepishly and pat her hand. “Not your fault,” she’d remind her, shaking her head and looking at her with such bright eyes.

 

Emma wouldn’t have given it a second thought. 

 

But that was before she’d inadvertently sent her away in handcuffs and back to New York.)

 

Killian eye’s soften and he sits beside her on the bed. “What are you doing here, Regina?”

 

It comes with absolutely no surprise to Regina that she realizes her mistake when she’s a couple hundred miles from the person she most needs to talk to. She’s always had terrible timing when it comes to self preservation.

 

“I don’t know,” she whispers, and if Killian is surprised her voice cracks with fear, he doesn’t show it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! <3


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